attentions during Frank's stay in the capital; at the close of which, he joined Frank in returning to Symond's Town, leaving his Lady there, until the infant should be sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey.

When Welsted reached Bauman's hotel, the waiter told him that his Excellency Sir Frederick Brashleigh had called upon him twice during his absence, and the last time had left a letter. Frank's astonishment was great at this announcement, but his surprise was indescribable when he read the following billet :

"Dear Sir,

"I almost scolded Lady Brashleigh when she told me, on my return hither from Newlands, that you had arrived in this colony, and even preached at Symond's Town on Sunday, that she had not immediately invited you to our bungalow, where she ought to have known I should be happy to see you. Indeed, your conduct towards Lady B.'s unfortunate parents has given me the greatest satisfaction; and it appears to me that her Ladyship's conduct towards you evinces a coldness of which I did not sus

pect her; and I have taken the liberty of telling her so. I trust she will be able to give an account of herself, which may be satisfactory to you, when we have the pleasure of seeing you here.

"The people at the inn do not seem to know exactly when you return, but I leave this to request you will dine with us, whatever day you come back, at seven o'clock.

"Meanwhile believe me yours obediently, "FRED. BRASHLEIGH.'

"

This letter, so contrary in spirit to the general conduct of Sir Frederick, so widely different in its character from the manner he assumed when speaking to Welsted, at the Opera House, staggered my hero, who did not at first perceive, that although a basilisk would have been almost as welcome to his Excellency as himself, his Excellency felt it politic to play the “Liberal,” and by soothing and pleasing the friend and protegé of his late father-in-law, obtain his good opinion, and consequently good report, in order that he might not, under a feeling of disappointment or neglect, be induced to give circulation to anecdotes of Lady Brashleigh's early

days, or conjure up the ghost of her departed sire, to mar the splendour of his Excellency's reign.

To refuse the invitation, was of course impossible to accept it, terrible—and yet was Frank not prepared for the importance of the trial to which he and Fanny were destined to be exposed. I have no space to detail the proceedings of this important day, nor paint the dreadfully agitating embarrassment of both parties; every allusion to past events, every remark of his Excellency upon her Ladyship's coldness, overwhelmed Welsted; every cross word or angry look of his Excellency's, went to his heart; and while his Excellency seemed over anxious to load him with civilities and attention, he shrank from him, as from the being who had marred his earthly happiness, and reduced, by continual irritation and overbearing tyranny, the blooming, lovely Fanny Rodney, to the pale, melancholy, woe-begone creature, who now stood before his eyes, the faded vision of her former self.

But imagine what must have been Frank's sensations when, after due preparation, his Excellency announced the fact that he had secured

a passage for himself, Lady Brashleigh and his family, in the ship in which he (Welsted) was a passenger, and which, after landing him at Ceylon, was to carry them on to Bombay.

What was to be done? Had Frank previously known of this plan, he would have made some excuse to quit the vessel, but now his doing so would be so marked, and so evidently a measure founded on the intelligence he had just received, that it would be impossible. And yet he felt bewildered by the prospect before him: to be domesticated day by day, hour by hour with the being nearest and dearest to his heart, the witness of her sorrows, perhaps the depositary of her confidence.-What then?-They might still be friends-was it not natural ?—They had been play-mates, brought up together; might not their intimate association continue with equal security and innocence? Welsted hoped it might, yet trembled at the consideration of the subject. Strong and inflexible as was his principle, excellent and pure as was his Fanny's heart, the trial seemed almost too much for human fallibility.

It was no common case; the lover who had relinquished her to secure her happiness at the

expense of his own, was to be brought, not only into constant contact with her, not only was she to enjoy the society which she loved best in the world, not only were the recollections of their youth to be refreshed by his presence, but all, these harrowing, agitating combinations were to acquire new force, new strength, by taking place in the actual presence of him whom, had she never known, she would in all human probability have never been unhappy. And then for her to endure the constant dread of that ferocious jealousy which characterized Sir Frederick's conduct; and which, smooth and smiling as was the expression of countenance which he had chosen to assume towards Frank, she knew would burst into a flame on the first appearance of even common cordiality between them; was it not altogether fearful? It was a dreadful struggle for the unhappy creature to maintain the dignified demeanour, the cold and placid indifference of manner towards Francis, which she knew it was expected she should exhibit, even during the four hours of his first visit; what would be the effect of the continued effort during weeks, perhaps months, of a voyage in his society; and what the effect upon her