I withdrew into the room adjoining; and in a few minutes returning, found the lovely daughter incir-cled by the arms of the indulgent mother, both in tears. Clementina was speaking. These were the words I heard her say.

Indeed, my dearest mamma, I am not angry with the chevalier. Why should I? But he can allow for me. I cannot be so great as he. Don’t I say, that I should be undone by his goodness?

She turned her head, and seeing me, disengaged herself from her mother’s arms, and met me. Allow for me, Sir, I beseech you, said she. I may be partial. I believe I am: but you can forgive me: I will hope you can Read my paper, said I, and went from you: but it was not in anger. Read it, I again say. I can give no other answer. I never can be happy with a man whom I think a heretic; and the moment I should, in tenderness, in duty, think him not one, I shall cease myself to be a Catholic. A husband, Sir, allied to perdition, what wife can bear the reflection?

The chevalier, my dear, urges you not. He ad-heres to his promise. You were willing to put a question to him yourself. I consented that he should answer it in your presence, for the sake of your future peace of mind. He has spoken to it like himself: he has shewn you, how much he admires you at the same time that he signifies his inviolable adherence to his own religion. My dearest love, he has conceded to terms in our favour, that we have not conceded to in his. Glorious and unex-ceptionable is his adherence, were it to a right reli — gion He believes it is. He might urge much to his own advantage from your adherence to yours: but he has only hinted at that to us, not to you. He is willing to wait the event of your will. He will leave us, as he did more than once before, and re-turn; and if you persevere, he will endeavour to make himself easy

And leave us; and return to England, I suppose?

No doubt of it, my dear

While the Florentine is there

I never, madam, can be any-thing but a well-wisher to the Florentine

God give 7/ow, Sir, and me. too, ease of mind. But I find my head overstrained. It is bound round as with a cord, I think, putting her hands to each side of it, for a moment You must leave me, Sir. But if you will see me tomorrow morning, and tell me, whither you intend to go, and what you intend to do, I shall be obliged to you. Cannot we talk together, Sir, as brother and sister? Or as tutor and pupil? Those were happy days! Let us try to recover them.