CHAPTER VI.

"And that should teach us, There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will."

WHAT a deliverance!-But by whom had it been effected? Once she thought of the person in whose service she believed Conolly to be; but she quickly dismissed the idea, from a persuasion, notwithstanding the humble situation of Conolly, of there being too great a delicacy in his feelings to allow of his applying to him on her account. By the Beaumonts, then, it must have been effected. Thinking so, she felt surprised when, in the course of a few minutes, the coach stopped at the contiguous side of the Green, at an old massive mansion. While Conolly was knocking, her eyes eagerly ran over it, and she could

not help thinking it had a very cheerless aspect.

The moment the door was opened, Co-. nolly down the steps to assist her out. As she alighted, she demanded to whom she was going? but, without replying, he merely begged her to go on. She obeyed, and from a hall of noble dimensions was conducted up a corresponding staircase to a spacious drawing-room, at the entrance of which a lady, very lovely, though not very young, received her with open arms, and kissing her cheek, bade her welcome.

"You are surprised," she said, with a benevolent smile, " to meet with this reception from a stranger; personally I am so, but not in reality. But you must repress inquiriesI am bound to silence on all that must excite your curiosity. My enforced silence, however, will not, I trust, prevent your allowing me to culti vate your regard; it will add to any hap piness I may experience," and here a sigh stole from her," to be permitted to contribute to yours."

The wondering Fidelia thanked her as well as agitation and surprise would permit, but could not avoid acknowledging a strong solicitude to know how she had become so interested about her, and whether Conolly had any thing to say in introducing her to her notice?

Mrs. Stovendale (as she informed her was her name, a name which Fidelia could not call to her recollection having ever heard before) smilingly told her it would be an infringement on what she had promised to conceal if she told her; and, for the present, Fidelia was fain to remain content to be kept in ignorance of what she so naturally desired to know.

So little satisfied, however, was she with the silence respecting it, that, differently situated, she would assuredly have endeavoured to procure other protection. Yet there was nothing in the appearance of Mrs. Stovendale that had not a tendency to inspire confidence: her manners announced her to belong to a superior class

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of society, and her countenance was expressive of every thing that was amiable and affectionate. Her residence, too, was calculated to inspire this. The mansion, both externally and internally, had an air of grandeur and magnificence, but still, at the same time, a sombre one. The room into which she was ushered was hung with crimson damask, the ponderous chairs were covered with the same, and richly gilt; the glasses were superb, and every thing else suitable; but still, notwithstanding its gorgeousness, it had a gloomy appearance, and the effect it was calculated to have upon the imagination was heightened by the profound stillness that prevailed within the house-so unlike what might have been expected in one of that description.

Mrs. Stovendale having given her time to look about her and collect herself, took her by the hand and led her to a further door, which, throwing open, revealed to her a room corresponding with the one they were in. Reading, in a recumbent

attitude on a sofa in this, was a gentleman in a robe de chambre, and with every appearance of recent illness.

"The young friend we were expecting, my dear," said Mrs. Stovendale, leading forward Fidelia.

Mr. Stovendale, as this address announced him, rose to welcome her, but the hand which Fidelia was extending to meet his she was prevented immediately giving by the bounding forward of a dog, whom, as he jumped about her with every indication of delight, she discovered to be Ponto.

The mystery thickened. Was it possible that the invalid she now saw sitting in luxurious ease was the neglected invalid for whom her compassionate feelings had lately been so interested? With difficulty could she check the interrogation that trembled on her lips-with difficulty her recognition of the grateful Ponto: but not knowing what it might be proper her to appear to know, she determined to observe the greatest caution. More than

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