They were earnest with me to pass the evening with them. But I excused myself. I wanted to be at my own lodgings, in order to revolve all that had passed. But having not taken leave of Lady Cle-mentina, I imagined she might think 1 went away in iil humour, if I forbore it. My whole study, I told them, should be to make Lady Clementina easy: and if the marchioness would be so good as to per-mit me to take leave of her for the evening, in her presence, 1 would depart; only making my compli-ments to Signor Jeronymo, by Mr. Lowther; know — ing that he would be grieved for my disappointment; and my mind not being at present easy enough to contend with his concern for me.

The marchioness said, she would see in what way her Clementina then was; and acquaint me, by Camilla, with her wishes.

Before we could renew our discourse, the bishop and Father Marescotti joined us; both in high spirits. They were excessively complaisant to nie f It was easy to guess at the occasion of their good humour. I could not be greatly delighted with it. But when the count told them what had passed, before they joined us, the bishop embraced me; the father unawares snatched my hand, and kissed it.

I was glad to be relieved from their compliments, by the expected message from the marchioness and Clementina.

The young lady met me, as I entered, at the door of her apartment. She held out her hand to me. I respectfully took it. I saw she had been in tears: but she looked with a serenity, that I was glad to see, though I doubted not but it was partly owing to the conversation she had had, since I left her, with her brother and her confessor, as well as to what might have passed between her mother and her.

She led me to a chair between them both. Sire withdrew not her hand; and aimed at a more cheer-ful countenance than 1 had a heart. I congratulated her on her serenity. It is in your power, Sir, said she. to make me still more serene Can ) r ou, of a truth, and from your heart, approve of my present way of thinking? Can you, chevalier?

I can admire you for it, madam. You have exalted yourself, in my opinion. But I must regret it Because But 1 have promised not to urge you. Your conscience, madam, is concerned To endea-vour but to persuade against conscience, if you have no doubt of your motive, is not warranted, even inv a parent.

I am, I think I am, returned she, absolutely sure of my motive. But, my dear mamma, be pleased to put the questions I wished you to put to the cheva-lier.

She still suffered me to withhold her hand: and with the other took out her handkerchief; not to wipe away her tears, but to hide her blushes. She wept not: her bosom heaved with the grandeur of her sentiments.