may be equally prophetic of our approaching silence." "And of a future office!" said Isabella, "for let the words come from whom they would, I am sure they were prompted by a guardian angel." "What were the words?" said Lady Rachel. "Sin not!" said Isabella, deeply blushing. "They could not apply to you, child," returned Lady Rachel; "you who mean no harm, and would do none." "Oh spare me!" said Isabella; my meanings, I am now painfully convinced, are no security for my actions." "Were you sinning?" asked Lady Rachel. "I believe I was," said Isabella. "I am sure I was in the way of temp tation; and without any very strong determination of resistance." "And the tempter was Sir Charles Seymour," replied Lady Rachel; "but where were all the doughty champions under whose banners you were so stoutly to combat the world, the flesh, and the devil? did not pride cry Avaunt, traitor ?'-Was dence' asleep at her post? Pru- 'the world's good word' silent ?-And was 'taste' reconciled to " dation'?" degra "I abjure all such counsellors-all such defenders," cried Isabella; "under their influence I am become at once weak and self-confident; and there seems to me more safety and strength in the simple words, "sin not," uttered by my invisible friend, than in all I ever heard of the 'dignity of pride,' the security of prudence,' the sanction of the world,' or the ' award of good taste'." "You have spoke truth and candour," said Lady Rachel, with an emotion which astonished Isabella; " truth and candour which I never! no never! again expected to have seen equalled! -blessed God," continued she, raising her eyes to heaven, "I thank thee, for this renewal of one of thy fairest works!"-Then, with something of super-human power, repressing in an instant the ebullition of passion into which she had been betrayed, her features resumed their wonted expression; and, throwing her arms around. Isabella, "let me embrace you," said she; "from this moment we are friends; you have weaknesses, you have faults; but they are the faults of human-nature, not the monstrous productions of artificial life; they are the growth of your own heart, not the transplanted poison of the world of fashion for the one there is an appointed remedy; the other neither admits of, nor desires a cure. The heart is gangrened! the vital principle is destroyed! nothing short of a miracle can restore it." My dear Lady Rachel," said Isabella, melting into tears," how kind! how good you are! and cannot you guess what kindred spirit spoke in that soft still voice which I heard last night?" "No, indeed, I cannot guess," said Lady Rachel, “for I know.” Isabella started. "Are you indeed a witch?" said she. "I mean not to make any mystery of the matter," returned Lady Rachel. "I must not suffer such a trifling circumstance to fasten itself on your imagination; for your imagination is one of the enemies against which we have to guard; you must not enter every place of resort with the impression that some Sylph or Genii is hovering over you; trick, management, and machinery of every kind, I abominate. Your Oracle was Lord Burghley." "And what could lead Lord Burghley to think that I stood in need of such a warning?" said Isabella. "To one so well versed in the ways of the world, as Lord Burghley is," replied Lady Rachel, "there was enough to shew the usefulness of such a caution." "I might more readily admit the usefulness of such an admonition," replied Isabella, "had the person in question been Lord Thomas Orville; but Sir Charles Seymour-" "Had the person been Lord Thomas Orville," said Lady Rachel, “you would not have been worth a caution. The woman who can listen for a mo |