est regard.-Of you he dared not trust himself to say much-but the little he did venture to say was expressive of the highest respect and esteem,-more he did not, and ought nöt, I am convinced, to have allowed himself."

"I am satisfied-quite satisfied," said Caroline, relieving her heart by a deep sigh," and, I thank you, my kind Mrs. Hungerford.-You have put this subject at rest for ever in my mind.--If Count Altenberg can love me with honor, he will-If he cannot, Heaven forbid! I should wish it."

From this time forward, Caroline never spoke more upon the subject, never mentioned the name of Count Altenberg. She exerted all the strong command she possessed over herself, to conquer the languor and indolence, to which she had found herself disposed.

It is a difficult task to restore what may be called the tone of the mind; to recover the power of being acted upon

by common and every day motives, after sensibility has been unusually exeited. Where the affections have been deeply and long engaged, this is a task, which the most severe philosophy cannot accomplish, without the aid of Time-and of that superiorpower, which it would be irreverent here to name.

By using no concealment with her friends, by permitting no self-delusion,, by having the courage to confess the first symptom of partiality of which she was conscious, Caroline prevented all danger, and put it out of her own power, to nourish a preference into a passion, which must ultimately have made herself and her friends unhappy. Beside the advantages which she derived from her literary tastes, and her habits of varying her occupations, she, at this. time, found great resources in her warm: and affectionate attachment to her own family.

She had never yet arrived at that state

of egoism, which marks the height of passion, when all interests and affections sink and vanish before one exclusive and tyrant sentiment.

CHAPTER XXX.

WHEN Count Altenberg went to Lon-don to obtain his passports, he attended the minister's levee, to repeat his thanks for the attentions with which he had been honored, and to pay his parting respects to Lord Oldborough, whose talents and uncommon character had made an indelible impression on his mind.

After levee, when the Count was alone with the minister, and when he asked whether his Lordship had any commands that he could execute at his own court, he was surprised, by receiving at once. a commission of a difficult and delicate, nature. Lord Oldborough, whose penetration had seen into Count Altenberg's character, and who knew how and when to trust, though he was supposed to be the most reserved of men, confided to

the Count his dissatisfaction with the proceedings of Cunningham Falconer, his suspicions that the Envoy was playing double, and endeavoring to ingratiate himself abroad and at home with a party inimical to his Lordship's interests.

"Diplomatists are all, more or less, insincere," said Lord Oldborough."But to have chosen an Envoy, who joins ingratitude to duplicity, would reflect no credit upon the minister by whom he was appointed. Were I speaking to a common person, I should not admit the possibility of my having committed such an error. But Count Altenberg will judge by the whole, and not by a part. He knows that every man in power is sometimes the slave of circumstances. This Cunningham Falconer, all these Falconers were forced upon me-how,-it is of little consequence to you to hear. It is sufficient for me to assure you, Count, that it was not my judgment that erred.-Now the necessity has ceased. By other means