character as a philosopher is at stake, I will maintain my point, and reduce you all to a dilemma. I said that I was happy, and as no one can judge of this but myself, so no one can contradict me."

"Oh! that we can admit, for thoughtless girls are always happy; but the question at issue refers to your goodness. How do you establish this point?"

66 By the simple fact that I am happy; for as the human heart and conscience are constituted, ---at least, I can answer for my own—I know that it is impossible to be perfectly happy without being good."

"Faith! there is real philosophy in that observation, as well as sound morality, ay, and pure religion too," said Lord Mossdale.

"Oh, my Lord; I talk so much nonsense in a general way," cried Fanny, "that I am obliged to blurt out something rational now and then, or I should be set down for a confirmed simpleton. Now that I have begun so luckily, I am determined to be profound and philosophical for the rest of the morning, and therefore-Gemini! there's Snowball upon the

lawn! My Lord, my Lord! do look at her. Did you ever see such a beautiful greyhound? She was given to me by Squire Ringwood. Oh, you frolicsome darling! I must positively have a game of romps with you."-And so saying she scampered down-stairs, and was presently seen bounding like a young wood-nymph after Snowball, until both disappeared in the adjoining shrubbery.

"That is just poor Fanny's odd, inconsistent way," observed Lady Susan: "making some rational observation that nobody expects from her, and then suddenly talking and acting like a silly romping school-girl. Well might Sir Nugent Clavering term her the inspired idiot."

66

Inspired she may be, but I'll swear she is far enough from an idiot," exclaimed Lord Mossdale.

66

"It is a little like one too," said Miss Frampton, to run out without her bonnet such a damp day as this, which is sure to take every bit of curl out of her hair; and even if the grass is not wet, she will inevitably stretch her shoes, by running so fast in them; they will never again sit becomingly upon her foot,

for they are French shoes." The eyes of the speaker fell as if unconsciously upon her own remarkably small well-appointed foot, as it hung by premeditated accident over the edge of an ottoman; Lord Mossdale's eyes naturally took the same direction, and there was a momentary silence, for both Lady Susan and her daughter were careful not to interrupt him in so interesting a study.

"Augusta, my dear!" at length exclaimed the mother; "be so good as to step up-stairs and look for my vinaigrette, which I have somewhere mislaid." As the daughter won her way mincingly towards the door, bridling up her figure, and throwing back her head, the mother continued, "Really Augusta quite spoils one for backs, her's is such a very fine one, and the slope of her shoulders is so perfect. I may say this without any suspicion of partiality, for when she was presented at Court, the King himself, who is an admirable judge of such matters, made the same observation to my relation the Marchioness."

"Miss Frampton is in every respect extremely beautiful," said his Lordship.

"Oh! mere beauty is nothing, there are plenty of handsome girls about town; but Augusta's distinguishing merit is the style of her face and appearance altogether, which is quite patrician, stamping her at once of the Corinthian order. She was evidently designed by nature to be a nobleman's wife."

"I wonder, then, that she never became one," said Lord Mossdale, with a smile of malicious pleasantry upon his features, as he recollected her nick-name of the Tuft-hunter.

"She has had numerous opportunities, but Augusta is so very particular, so conscientious, I may say. She will never marry where she cannot bestow her heart; but whenever she fixes her affections, she will make a most exemplary wife." Her ladyship was good enough to add, that after all, neither her daughter nor herself were fastidious in their choice, and then proceeded to paint a beau ideal of what they would both consider an eligible husband, drawing such a close likeness of his Lordship, that he instantly recognized his own portrait, and suddenly broke off the colloquy, lest he should be taken by storm, and forced into an offer of

his hand, before he could quit the window in which they were conversing.

The return of the Black servant into the room with the crutches, which he had been altering for his master, afforded Lord Mossdale a seasonable pretext for changing the conversation. "Pompey, my good fellow," he said, "we have been talking about the song you were singing just now. Does it relate to a real

occurrence ?"

"Iss, gemman, iss; ebery word all trute.” "How do you know; did you witness it yourself ?"

"Iss, gemman, iss; Pompey tell oo all 'bout it."

66

Say, my Lord, sirrah! and not gemman,' cried Lady Susan.

"Bery well, my Lady. Oo lookee here, my Lord, and no gemman-oo listen a me. One day, da harwess time come on-smack, smack! go da whip, afore da sun poke him red nose out da sea-da bell ring-da conch blow-up jump Niggers, and bery glad too, 'cause harwess time, and no dam watchman hinder dem eat da sugeecanes. Bery well; ebery man take sharp bill,