What, at the moment, was my emotion! I arose from my seat, sat down, and arose again, irresolute, not knowing what I did, or what to do!

She stopt in the middle of the floor, and made some motion, in silence, to Camilla, who adjusted her veil: but she looked not before her; lifted not up her eyes; observed no-body.

On her stopping, I was advancing towards her; but the general took my hand: Sit still, sit still, dear Grandison, said he: yet I am charmed with your sensibility. She comes! She moves towards us!

She approached the table round which we sat, her eyes more than half closed, and cast down. She turned to go towards the window. Here, here, ma-dam, said Camilla, leading her to an elbow-chair that had been placed for her, between the two mar-chionesses. She implicitly took her woman’s di — rections, and sat down. Her mother wept. The young marchioness wept. Her father sobbed; and looked from her. Her mother took her hand: My love, said she, look around you.

Pray sister, said the count her uncle, leave her to her own observation.

She was regardless of what either said; her eyes were cast down, and halt’ closed. Camilla stood at the back of her chair.

The general, grieved and impatient, arose, and stepping to her, My dearest sister, said he, hanging over her shoulder, look upon us all. Do not scorn us, do not despise us: see your father, your mother, your sister, and every-body, in tears. If you love us, smile upon us. He took the. hand which her mother had quitted, to attend to her own emotions.

She reared up her eyes to him, and, sweetly condescending, tried to smile; but such a solemnity had taken possession of her features, that she only could shew her obligingness, by the effort. Her smile was a smile of woe. And, still further to shew her compliance, withdrawing her hand from her bro-ther, she looked on either side of her; and seeing which was her mother, she, with both hands, took hers, and bowed her head upon it.

The marquis arose from his seat, his handkerchief at his eyes. Sweet creature! said he, never, never let me again see such a smile as that. It is here, putting his hand to his breast.

Camilla offered her a glass of lemonade; she ac-cepted it not, nor held up her head for a few mo — ments.

Obliging sister! you do not scorn us, said the general. See, Father Marescotti is in tears [the reverend man sat next me]: pity his grey hairs! See, your own father too Comfort your father. His grief for your silence