Beauchamp came in, and I thought would have relieved us: but he put my aunt in mind of an almost-forgotten part of her dream; for just such a joyful meeting, just such expressions of gladness, did she dream of, as she now beheld, and heard, between my brother and him felicitating each other. Duce take these dreaming souls, to remember their re-veries, when realities infinitely more affecting are before them! But reflection and prognostic are ever inspiriting parts of the pretension of people who have lived long; dead to the present; the past and the future filling their minds: and why should not they be indulged in the thought that they know some-thing more than those who are less abstracted; and who are contented with looking no further than the present?

Sir Charles enquired after Sir Harry’s health. Mr. Beauchamp, with a concern that did him credit, lamented his declining way; and he spoke so re-spectfully of Lady Beauchamp, and of her tender — ness to his father, as made my brother’s eyes glisten with pleasure.

Lord and Lady L. Dr. Bartlett, and Emily, were at Colnebrook: but as they had left orders to be sent for, the moment my brother arrived (for you need not doubt but his last letter prepared us to expect him soon) they came time enough to dine with us. There was a renewal of joy among us.

Emily, the dear Emily, fainted away, embracing the kness of her guardian, as she, unawares to him, threw herself at his feet, with joy that laboured for expression, but could not obtain it. He was affect-ed. So was Beauchamp. So were we all. She was carried out, just as she was recovering to a shame and confusion of face, for which only her own mo-desty could reproach her.

There are susceptibilities which will shew them-selves in outward acts; and there are others which cannot burst out into speech. Lady L.‘s joy was of the former, mine of the latter, sort. But she is used to tenderness of heart. My emotions are ready to burst my heart, but never hardly can rise to my lips My eyes, however, are great talkers.