possess. I beseech you, sir," continued he, addressing himself, in a tremulous tone of contempt, to Mr. Hervey, “I beseech you, sir, to leave me to my own feelings—and to myself."

"You are not yourself at this moment, and I cannot leave you to such mistaken feelings," replied Hervey: "command yourself for a moment, and hear me; use your reason, and you will soon be convinced that I am your friend."

"Your friend. For what purpose did I come here? to snatch this pistol from your hand? If it were my interest, my wish, that you were out of the world, why did I prevent you from destroying yourself? Do you think that the action of an enemy? Use your reason."

"I cannot," said Vincent, striking his forehead; "I know not what to think-I am not master of myself. I conjure you, sir, for your own sake, to leave me."

"For my own sake!" repeated Hervey, disdainfully: "I am not thinking of myself; nor can any thing you have said provoke me from my purpose. My purpose is to save you from ruin, for the sake of a woman, whom, though I am no longer your rival, I have loved longer, if not better, than you have.”

There was something so open in Hervey's countenance, such a strong expression of truth in his manner, that it could not be resisted, and Vincent, in an altered voice, exclaimed, “You acknowledge that you have loved Belinda-and could you cease to love her? Impossible!-And, loving her, must you not detest me?"

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'No," said Clarence, holding out his hand to him; "I wish to be your friend. I have not the baseness to wish to deprive others of happiness because I cannot enjoy it myself. In one word, to put you at ease with me for ever, I have no pretensions, I can have none, to Miss Portman. I am engaged to another woman—in a few days you will hear of my marriage.”

Mr. Vincent threw the pistol from him, and gave his hand to Hervey.

"I knew

"Pardon what I said to you just now," cried he; not what I said—I spoke in the agony of despair: your purpose is most generous-but it is in vain-you come too late-I am ruined, past all hope

He folded his arms, and his eyes reverted involuntarily to his pistols.

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"The misery that you have this night experienced," said Mr. Hervey, was necessary to the security of your future happiness."

"Happiness!" repeated Vincent; "happiness-there is no happiness left for me. My doom is fixed-fixed by my own folly-my own rash, headstrong folly. Madman that I was, what could tempt me to the gaming-table? Oh! if I could recall but a few days, a few hours of my existence ! But remorse is vain-prudence comes too late. Do you know," said he, fixing his eyes upon Hervey, "do you know that I am a beggar? that I have not a farthing left upon earth? Go to Belinda; tell her so: tell her, that if she had ever the slightest regard for me, I deserve it no longer. Tell her to forget, despise, detest me. Give her joy that she has escaped having a gamester

for a husband."

"I will," said Clarence, "I will, if you please, tell her what I believe to be true, that the agony you have felt this night, the dear-bought experience you have had, will be for ever a warning."

"A warning!" interrupted Vincent: "Oh, that it could yet be useful to me!-But I tell you it comes too late-nothing can

"I can," said Mr. Hervey. "Swear to me, for Belinda's sake-solemnly swear to me, that you will never more trust your happiness and hers to the hazard of a die-swear that you will never more, directly or indirectly, play at any game of chance, and I will restore to you the fortune that you have lost."

Mr. Vincent stood as if suspended between ecstasy and despair: he dared not trust his senses: with a fervent and solemn adjuration he made the vow that was required of him; and Clarence then revealed to him the secret of the E O table.

"When Mrs. Luttridge knows that I have it in my power to expose her to public shame, she will instantly refund all that she has iniquitously won from you. Even among gamblers she would be blasted for ever by this discovery: she knows it, and if she dared to brave public opinion, we have then a sure resource in the law-prosecute her. The laws of honour, as well as the

laws of the land, will support the prosecution. But she will never let the affair go into a court of justice. I will see her early, as early as I can to-morrow, and put you out of suspense."

"Most generous of human beings!" exclaimed Vincent; "I cannot express to you what I feel; but your own heart, your own approbation—”

"Farewell, good night," interrupted Clarence; "I see that I have made a friend-I was determined that Belinda's husband should be my friend-I have succeeded beyond my hopes. And now I will intrude no longer," said he, as he closed the door after him. His sensations at this instant were more delightful even than those of the man he had relieved from the depth of despair. How wisely has Providence made the benevolent and generous passions the most pleasurable!

CHAPTER XXIX.

A JEW.

In the silence of the night, when the hurry of action was over, and the enthusiasm of generosity began to subside, the words, which had escaped from Mr. Vincent in the paroxysm of despair and rage—the words, "Belinda loves you"-recurred to Clarence Hervey; and it required all his power over himself to banish the sound from his ear, and the idea from his mind. He endeavoured to persuade himself that these words were dictated merely by sudden jealousy, and that there could be no real foundation for the assertion: perhaps this belief was a necessary support to his integrity. He reflected, that, at all events, his engagement with Virginia could not be violated; his proffered services to Mr. Vincent could not be withdrawn: he was firm and consistent. Before two o'clock the next day, Vincent received from Clarence this short note:

"Enclosed is Mrs. Luttridge's acknowledgment, that she has no claims upon you, in consequence of what passed last night.

I said nothing about the money she had previously won, as I understand you have paid it.

"The lady fell into fits, but it would not do. The husband attempted to bully me; I told him I should be at his service, after he had made the whole affair public, by calling you out.

“I would have seen you myself this morning, but that I am engaged with lawyers and marriage settlements.

"Yours sincerely,

"CLARENCE HERVEY."

Overjoyed at the sight of Mrs. Luttridge's acknowledgment, Vincent repeated his vow never more to hazard himself in her dangerous society. He was impatient to see Belinda; and, full of generous and grateful sentiments, in his first moment of joy, he determined to conceal nothing from her; to make at once the confession of his own imprudence and the eulogium of Clarence Hervey's generosity. He was just setting out for Twickenham, when he was sent for by his uncle, Governor Montford, who had business to settle with him, relative to his West India estates. He spent the remainder of the morning with his uncle ; and there he received a charming letter from Belinda-that letter which she had written and sent whilst Lady Delacour was reading Clarence Hervey's packet. It would have cured Vincent of jealousy, even if he had not, in the interim, seen Mr. Hervey, and learnt from him the news of his approaching marriage. Miss Portman, at the conclusion of her letter, informed him that Lady Delacour purposed being in Berkeleysquare the next day; that they were to spend week in town,

on account of Mrs. Margaret Delacour, who had promised her ladyship a visit; and to go to Twickenham would be a formidable journey to an infirm old lady, who seldom stirred out of her

house.

Whatever displeasure Lady Delacour felt towards her friend Belinda, on account of her coldness to Mr. Hervey, and her steadiness to Mr. Vincent, had by this time subsided. Angry people, who express their passion, as it has been justly said, always speak worse than they think. This was usually the case with her ladyship.

The morning after they arrived in town, she came into Be

linda's room, with an air of more than usual sprightliness and satisfaction. "Great news!—Great news!—Extraordinary news! -But it is very imprudent to excite your expectations, my dear Belinda. Pray, did you hear a wonderful noise in the square a little while ago?"

"Yes, I thought I heard a great bustle; but Marriott appeased my curiosity, by saying that it was only a battle between two dogs."

"It is well if this battle between two dogs do not end in a duel between two men," said Lady Delacour.

"This prospect of mischief seems to have put your ladyship in wonderfully good spirits," said Belinda, smiling.

"But what do you think I have heard of Mr. Vincent?" continued Lady Delacour: "that Miss Annabella Luttridge is dying for love of him-or of his fortune. Knowing, as I do, the vanity of mankind, I suppose that your Mr. Vincent, all perfect as he is, was flattered by the little coquette; and perhaps he condescends to repay her in the same coin. I take it for granted -for I always fill up the gaps in a story my own way-I take it for granted that Mr. Vincent got into some entanglement with her, and that this has been the cause of the quarrel with the aunt. That there has been a quarrel is certain, for your friend Juba told Marriott so. His massa swore that he would never go to Mrs. Luttridge's again; and this morning he took the decisive measure of sending to request that his dog might be returned. Juba went for his namesake. Miss Annabella Luttridge was the person who delivered up the dog; and she desired the black to tell his master, with her compliments, that Juba's collar was rather too tight; and she begged that he would not fail to take it off as soon as he could. Perhaps, my dear, you are as simple as the poor negro, and suspect no finesse in this message. Miss Luttridge, aware that the faithful fellow was too much in your interests to be either persuaded or bribed to carry a billet-doux from any other lady to his master, did not dare to trust him upon this occasion; but she had the art to make him carry her letter without his knowing it. Colin maillard, vulgarly called blind man's buff, was, some time ago, a favourite play amongst the Parisian ladies: now hide and seek will be brought into fashion, I suppose, by the fair Annabella. Judge of her talents for the