fellow, of whom, for one month, a great while ago, I thought tolerably.

You and I, Harriet, will open to each other all our hearts. There is one chamber that has two beds in it. We will have that. Our dressing-room shall be common to both: Lady L is a morning-killer: she always loved her bed so we shall have charming opportunities for tête-à-tête conversation.

I will drink tea with you to-morrow-No, but I won't: you and your cousins shall drink tea with us-Do you hear? I won't be denied. And then we'll settle how it shall be. I'll tell you what, my dear-If, on my brother's return from Canterbury, he comes to us at Colnebrook, we will call him to account for all his reserves. Here is this affair of Pollexfen's: how might it have ended! I tremble to think of it-You'll stand by me: won't you? I cannot make Lord and Lady L― of my party, or I would have rebelled before now-But you and I, my dear, I warrant you -Yet you are so grave. Were you always such a grave, such a wise, such a very wise girl, Harriet? Was your grandfather a very sententious man? Was his name Solomon Shirley?

I love wisdom as well as any body: but wisdom, out of its place, is a prude, my dear. How I ramble !-You'll come to-morrow-I designed but two lines. Adieu. Believe me ever yours, C. G.

I hope, Lucy, I was not wrong in so readily consenting to go to Colnebrook. My own inclination, indeed, was in my compliance; and I begin to mistrust myself, wherever that strongly leads. Yet why should I undervalue myself? I know my heart to be good. In that I will not yield to

any body. I have no littleness in my mind: naturally I have not. Guard me, O my friends! by your prayers, that no littleness, that is not natural to my heart, may depreciate it, and make me unworthy of the love you have ever shewn to your

HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER VII.

MISS HARRIET BYRON, TO MISS LUCY SELBY.

Sunday, Mar. 5.

My cousins will have it, that I am far gone in a certain passion [they speak quite out]; and with a man that has given no encouragement-Encouragement! how meanly sounds that word! But I hope they are mistaken. I cannot say, but I might prefer, if I were to have my choiceone man to another-But that is a different thing from being run away with by so vehement a folly as they are ready to ascribe to me.

Well, but, under this notion, they are solicitous that I should not neglect any opportunity [what a poor creature do they think me!] of ingratiating myself with the sisters: and therefore I must, by all means, accept of Miss Grandison's invitation to tea.

I insisted, however, that they should accompany me, as they likewise were invited: and they obliged me—I may say themselves too; for they admire the brother and sisters as much as I do.

We found together Lord and Lady L, Miss Grandison, Miss Jervois, Dr. Bartlett, and Mr. Grandison. Sir

Charles was in his drawing-room adjoining to the study; a lady with him, they said. What business had I to wish to know whether it was an elderly or a young lady? But I must tell you all my follies. When we alighted, a very genteel chair made way for our coach.

Mr. Grandison made up to me; and, as heretofore, said very silly things, but with an air, as if he were accustomed to say such, and to have them received as gallant things, by those to whom he addressed them. How painful it is to a mind not quite at ease, to be obliged to be civil, when the ear is invaded by contemptible speeches, from a man who must think as highly of himself for uttering them, as meanly of the understanding of the person he is speaking to!

Miss Grandison saw me a little uneasy, and came up to us. Mr. Grandison, said she, I thought you had known Miss Byron's character by this time. She is something more than a pretty woman. She has a soul, sir: the man who makes a compliment to her on her beauty, depreciates her understanding.

me.

She then led me to her seat, and sat down next

Mr. Grandison was in the midst of a fine speech, and was not well pleased. He sat down, threw one leg over the knee of the other, hemmed three or four times, took out his snuff-box, tapped it, let the snuff drop through his fingers, then broke the lumps, then shut it, and twirled it round with the fore-finger of his right hand, as he held it between the thumb and fore-finger of the other; and was quite like a sullen boy: yet, after a while, tried to recover himself, by forcing a laugh at a slight thing or two said in company, that was not intended to raise one.

I think, my dear, I could have allowed a little more for him, had not his name been Grandison.

We soon adjusted every thing for the little journey. Mr. Grandison told Miss Grandison, that if she would make him amends for her treatment of him just now, she should put Lord L-upon inviting him. Lord and Lady L joined to do so. But Miss Grandison would not admit of his going; and I was glad of it.

But, not to affront you, cousin, said she, Miss Byron and I want to have a good deal of particular conversation: so shall not be able to spare you an hour of our company at Colnebrook. But one thing, sir: my brother sets out for Canterbury to-morrow: tell him that we won't be troubled with your company: ask him, if he will.

Not in those words neither, cousin Charlotte: but I will offer attendance; and, if he accepts of it, I shall be half as happy as if I went to Colnebrook; and only half, bowing to me.

Why, now, you are a good docible kind of a man! I want to hear what will be my brother's answer: for we know not one syllable, nor can guess at his business at Canterbury.

The tea-equipage being brought in, we heard Sir Charles's voice, complimenting a lady to her chair; and who pleaded engagement for declining to drink tea with his sister. And then he entered the parlour to us. He addressed my cousins, who were next him, with his usual politeness. He then came to me: How does my good Miss Byron? Not discomposed, I hope, by your yesterday's visiters. They are all of them in love with you. But you must have been pained-I was pained for you, when I heard they had visited you. But extraordinary merit has some forfeitures to pay.

I am sure then, thought I, you must have a great many. Every time I see him, I think he rises upon me in the gracefulness of his behaviour.

I have one agreeable piece of news to tell you, madam. Sir Hargrave will go abroad for a twelvemonth. He says, he cannot be in the same kingdom with you, and not see you. He hopes, therefore, to lessen the torment, by flying from the temptation. Mr. Bagenhall and Mr. Merceda with him.

will

go

Then whispering me, he said, from a hint in the letter of the penitent Wilson, that Mr. Bagenhall's circumstances are not happy, and that he is too much in the power of Sir Hargrave; I have prevailed on the latter, in consideration of the other's accompanying him abroad, to make him easy. And, would you believe it? and can you forgive me? I have brought Sir Hargrave to consent to give Wilson the promised 100l. To induce him to do this, Merceda (influenced by the arguments I urged, founded on the unhappy fellow's confessions in that letter) offered 507. more for his past services to himself: and both, as a proof of the sincerity of the promised reformation. Wilson shall not have the money, but upon his marrying the girl to whom he is contracted: and on my return from a little excursion I am making to Canterbury, I shall put all in a train. And now, let me ask you, once more, can you forgive me for rewarding, as you may think it, a base servant?

O sir! how can I answer you ?-You told me at Colnebrook, that we were to endeavour to bring good out of the evil from which you had delivered me. This indeed is making your words true in a very extensive sense: to make your enemies your friends; to put wicked men into a way of reformation; and to make it a bad man's interest to be good-Forgive you, sir!-From what I remember of that poor wretch's letter, I was obliged to him myself: though vile, he was less vile than he might have been. The young