66 'And would you wish me to learn all the tunes which Miss Clifford might be able to teach me?" said Sophia; turning to her father, and speaking in a low tone.

"You are a sly rogue, in spite of that little demure face of yours," replied the father, with a loud laugh.

"Ay, ay, Miss Catharine, you may look: but I'll match my Sophia against you any day, deep as you may

be.'

'Deep!" repeated Miss Clifford, being, for once, more out of countenance than she wished to be thought.

In the mean time, as Sophia could not, with advantage, shew off her musical talents to the present party, Miss Juliana and her younger sister were led in triumph to the piano-forte; while Mr. Mortimer, who hated every thing relative to music beyond a hunting song, settled himself to sleep in a corner of the sofa near Sophia, leaving the Captain (as the baronet was not wide awake) to the severe duties of extolling the Italian airs and recitatives, which he detested even more heartily than they really deserved.

While things were in this train, Miss Clifford and her mother left the room, Mr. Mortimer presently snored aloud, and the baronet began to rouse himself: while Sophia was lost in meditations, which turned first upon the characters of her newly-introduced relations; secondly, on the conversation which had passed before tea; and thirdly, by a natural connexion, on that forbidden subject of thought which for some time she had so successfully avoided, namely, the various supposed or real excellencies of Mr. Sackville, and the peculiar resemblance which he bore to the portrait of the handsome and gallant Duke of Monmouth.

Thus had evil communications in some degree commenced their baneful operations on the heart of this young lady, and had rendered her power of resistance against that which was evil, less than usually strong. For worthy and estimable as Mr. Sackville was, his excellencies were as yet nothing to Sophia, neither did she know that they ever would be. He had hitherto made no avowal of regard for her, and she knew not that he would ever do so; nor was shë sure that if such an avowal were even to be made, it would be sanctioned by her father. She had, therefore, every reason that both re

ligion and prudence could suggest, to restrain her thoughts from this object; and hitherto she had been in a great measure enabled to keep her mind in a proper state, and to cast every care on her God: but, as I before remarked, the light society into which she had fallen already had an injurious influence in lowering the hitherto high tone of her moral feelings, and thus rendering her more susceptible of temptation.

More than half an hour had passed in this manner, during which the baronet had first yawned, then stretched, then shook himself, then kicked the dogs from before the fire-place, then got out of his chair, then stood where the dogs had been, with his back to the rest of the room, then turned round with his back to the fire, then looked at one and another of the company present, and, lastly, lounged to an empty chair beside Sophia, where he began to play with her scissars, which lay on the table.

Sophia was indulging her own thoughts, as I before hinted; and though she had certainly seen Sir James move, she was scarcely sensible that he had settled himself so near her. Having twisted the scissars round his little finger for some time, the young man at length ventured to speak, and to ask the young lady if she had ever been in London.

At the sound of his voice so near her, Sophia started, and was obliged to ask him to repeat his question, before she knew what to answer.

'You were never in Town, I think, Miss Mortimer?” said Sir James.

"I believe not, Sir," replied Sophia.

"Not within your recollection?" said the other.

No, Sir," returned Sophia.

"Then you were there in infancy?" said the baronet. No, Sir," said Sophia.

"Then you were never in London at any time?" subjoined the other.

Never, Sir," replied Sophia.

Indeed," said the baronet, "I thought so."

"Sir!" said Sophia, trying to rouse herself to something like attention.

"I really did think," said the baronet, lisping, and trying to look sentimental, "I really did think, that you had never been in Town."

"What answer am 1 to make to this?" thought Sophia. "Does he mean to be polite, or merely to laugh at me?" And as she could not decide on this point, she did not venture any reply.

"London spoils the complexion," said Sir James. “I have heard so,” replied Sophia.

"I am sure you have not been in any place to spoil your complexion," remarked the baronet, making a violent effort to utter the most civil thing that he had ever ventured to address to a lady in his life; and as Sophia was wholly unprepared with any answer, it was some moments before his faculties were enabled to recover the equilibrium from which they had been violently thrown by this unusual effort. A cessation of conversation therefore ensued for a few seconds, which interval was interrupted only by the hard breathing of the sleeping Squire, and the pathetic quaverings of Miss Juliana's voice. At length, the baronet spoke again. "You are working for the poor, I see, Miss Mortimer. I like to see ladies work for the poor. ployed in that way."

My sisters are often em

These last were the only sentences which the baronet had uttered that had pleased Sophia. She accordingly looked up and smiled.

Sir James thought her smile very sweet, and was thinking how he might deserve such another, when Miss Clifford, who had returned into the room a minute before, and had been closely considering this tête-à-tête between Miss Mortimer and Sir James, thought proper to call upon the young gentleman to play with her at backgammon: soon after which, Sophia took occasion to beg permission of her mother to withdraw; a favour which was readily granted her by Mrs. Mortimer, who begged that she would always consider herself at liberty to retire whenever it was agreeable to her.

As Sophia had gone to rest at a later hour than usual, she awoke later the next morning; and the first thing she beheld, on opening her eyes, was her little Annette, sitting by her bed-side, working with her needle. This was a consolatory sight to her, and seemed at once to banish all uneasy thoughts. She arose in haste, and endeavoured to make the best of her time in instructing the child till called to breakfast.

It was apparent, when the family party met again, that the eyes of Sir James were more frequently directed towards Sophia than to Miss Juliana, though there was nothing in his conduct relative to either of these young ladies which was by any means particular. His slight preference of Sophia, however, was quite sufficient to alarm Mrs. Mortimer and Miss Clifford; and immediately after breakfast, these ladies had a private conference upon the subject, in which the latter told her mother that she had a scheme in her head by which she hoped to avert the danger which threatened them.

Miss Clifford was one of those women who, being herself destitute of any idea of the state of mind of a pious young person, could not suppose it possible for any young woman to have attained the age of eighteen without having formed some attachment, and who, therefore, felt convinced that Sophia must have some object of preference in the country. She, consequently, determined to divert her attention from the baronet by bringing this person before her, and encouraging the connexion either openly or clandestinely, whichever might be judged by herself or her mother most prudent. But the difficulty was, to find out this person, particularly as Sophia was not to be bantered upon the subject of love. Miss Clifford was, however, too good a politician to be deterred from her purpose by a trifling obstacle; and she, therefore, when Sophia appeared in the drawingroom after dinner, accordingly began her operations. "And now, my dear Miss Mortimer," said she, as you have lived all your life in this country, do tell us who are our neighbours. And first, who lives at the large white house on the top of the hill? and who at the new brick house on the road between this place and the last stage? Are there any young people in either of these mansions?"

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Sophia answered all and each of these enquiries with such perfect ease and simplicity, that, although questioned and cross-questioned again and again, she betrayed no indication by which Miss Clifford could draw any conclusions whatever.

When the gentlemen came in, the subject was continued, and Mr. Mortimer very unsuspectingly lent his assistance to Miss Clifford in her enquiries. And who lives

at the Old Hills now?" said Mr. Mortimer; "and who at the Barn Elms? and what family is now at Horsford?"

Sophia answered all these questions to the best of her power, and thus every thing went on quite smoothly till Mr. Mortimer asked, "And who is rector of Fairfield at this time?"

"Fairfield!" repeated Sophia, as if she had never heard of such a place before.

Miss Clifford then fixed her grey eyes on Sophia, and Mr. Mortimer replied, "Why, child, don't you know the parish at the higher end of the park? The rector was a very old man when I was last in this neighbourhood. Is he living still?”

"No," said Sophia.

"And pray," said Miss Clifford, in a drawling, stupid voice," who holds the living now?".

"A Mr. Sackville," said Sophia, using her needle with particular diligence.

"Sackville!" repeated Miss Clifford, in the same stupid voice, "I think I remember him at York:—an elderly man is he not, and remarkably plain?"

"No," said Sophia, but speaking as if something choked her, "no, not particularly old."

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Well, I do not know that he was so very old," subjoined Miss Clifford; "but features particularly ordinary make a person look older than he is.'

Sophia was busy with her needle, and unusually shortsighted: she was, therefore, obliged to look close to her work.

"Mrs. Mortimer," said Miss Clifford, addressing her mother, "you remember Mr. Sackville at York; a remarkably plain man, but very agreeable. We must cultivate his acquaintance. I only beg, Juliana and Harriet, that you will not fall in love with him.”

"But how do we know," said Mr. Mortimer, "that the rector of Fairfield is the same Sackville you knew at York? Have you seen him, Sophia? Is his appearance so remarkable as these ladies say? Is he any ways an odd-looking man?”

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No, Sir," said Sophia, "I believe not."

"Is he an agreeable man, Miss Mortimer?" asked Miss Clifford. "Our Mr. Sackville was an agreeable man: what is yours?"