CHAP. VIII.

So fare we in this prison-house, the world:
And 'tis a fearful spectacle to see

So many maniacs dancing in their chains:

They gaze upon the links which bind them fast,
With eyes of anguish, execrate their lot,
Then shake them in despair, and dance again.

COWPER.

CONSTANCE was hardly satisfied with herself for thus disposing of so considerable a sum; yet the hope that by so doing she might give the thoughtless Mrs. Linzee time for reflection, in some measure consoled her; that it would be the last she could so appropriate, was also an additional subject of consolation. At Landrenden she should resume her usual occupations; she should no more find solitude irksome, for had not the conduct of Maningham entirely weaned her from the attachment she once entertained for him? Yet, while she endeavoured to convince herself that she no longer loved him, a soft sigh rose in her bosom, and she mentally vowed never to unite herself with any other. "God forbid," exclaimed she, " that I should nourish an

attachment which virtue will not sanction! God forbid that I should still feel even a lingering partiality for one who has dared to insult me! could have been happy, contented, never to have seen him more; I could have rejoiced to behold him blessed, even if united to another: yet I wished to retain his friendship, to have afforded him my esteem; and this, even this he denies me."

Mrs. Linzee forgot not the appointment with the notary; she called on Constance to fulfil her engagement, and both sallied out together. The man of law was punctual, and a few minutes settled the business; but Constance could not help feeling mortified at the idea of taking up money, notwithstanding the praiseworthy motive which induced her to do so. She coloured, trembled, and hesitated, and could scarcely hold the pen to put her signature. Mrs. Linzee, as they left the house of the attorney, rallied her on her confusion, protesting that if she had been signing her marriage-settlements, she could not have been more agitated.

"Perhaps not so much," said Constance, endeavouring to recover herself; "for I shall certainly never sign those, without the clearest conviction that I am doing what both reason and conscience approve." She was about to have said more, when, as her hand rested on the railing which defended the flight of steps leading to the house, she perceived some one in the act of ascending, and turning, she beheld Maningham. Actuated by the same motive, both moved to the opposite side, to make way for each other. Maningham coolly bowed.

Mrs. Linzee, laughing, accosted him familiarly with" Heigh, Maningham! business or pleasure?"

Which he, retorting with equal familiarity, replied" And only business, I am sure, could carry Mrs. Linzee so early to the house of a lawyer."

You must wear the willow now, I'll assure you, " said Mrs. Linzee; " for Miss Mountstewart has just signed, sealed, and delivered the marriage-settlements."

"Good God, Mrs. Linzee!" exclaimed the agitated Constance.

Maningham turned his eyes expressively to wards her, a load of anguish seemed to pierce from his intelligent countenance; he placed his hand on his heart, and, in a tone of solemnity, exclaimed-"Whoever is so blest as to receive the hand of Miss Mountstewart, will want no man's good wishes; to offer mine to her, would be an insult, for the blessing she bestows can never be undervalued:" and then, with a low bow, he stepped forward, and knocked at the door.

"The willow in good earnest, if I may judge by his countenance," said Mrs. Linzee, again bursting into a laugh. "Well done, Sentiment! Pray, Miss Mountstewart, did he not once make you an offer?"?

翼

"You must pardon me, if I refuse to answer that question," said Constance; "though, in justice to Mr. Maningham, I think I may say he possesses too many advantages to be lightly rejected by any woman."

"True," answered Mrs. Linzee,," putting the obscurity of his birth out of the question; for it is generally believed, that he is entitled to a Fitz or a Mack. Some great man's offspring, no doubt, or he would not be so well provided for."

Constance felt confused, and Mrs. Linzee went on-" I hope in Heaven that limb of the law will not tell him our business, for I should like, of all things, to make him believe you are about to resign your liberty."

"I had rather, almost, that he should think so," said Constance, with an increased feeling of mortification, "than that he should know the truth; for, with such an income as I have, what must be his opinion of me, if he knew that I exceeded it?"

Oh! he would only think you like the rest of your sex. But, perhaps," and she looked archly in the face of her companion, "you would wish him to think worse of you, or, perhaps, a vast, vast deal better. Well, I protest, blushing becomes you."

Constance, who still held the bank bills she had received of the attorney, rolled up in her hand, now presented them to Mrs. Linsee, saying" For your own sake, Mrs. Linzee, I implore you to make a proper use of them. As you value your own peace of mind, your honour, your reputation, dismiss Lord John from your acquaintance immediately. Let Mr. Linzee never think, even for a moment, that you can hesitate to comply with any request of his; the

bonds of matrimonial confidence are soon bro. ken, and it may be impossible to reunite them." "There must be an end of every thing sublunary, child," answered Mrs. Linzee, gaily; "but, to shew you that I purpose keeping the silken chords of Hymen unbroken, I will stay this whole day at home; I will even devote it to preparations for our journey to-morrow. I will settle with Lord John, take my leave of fashion, by peeping at the ball in the evening, and then. hie away to the shades."

Pleased to hear this determination, Constance endeavoured to recover her own serenity; and both ladies returned home together, after having paid several morning visits. Mr. Linzee dined out, and the remainder of the day was devoted to preparations for the journey.

Mrs. Linzee now appeared to enter into the scheme of quitting Bath, with an alacrity which. even astonished Constance; and she began to think it might be possible to withdraw her from the frivolous pursuits which had hitherto engrossed her attention; she was now perfectly convinced, by her readiness to relinquish the society of Lord John, that she had received his attentions, merely from the weak vanity of being an object of admiration; and she rejoiced in having been an humble instrument, in the hands of Providence, to withdraw her from so dange

rous an amusement.

The fatigue of packing, and the restless feelings of disappointed affection, which, spite of herself, would intrude to harass and distract the mind of Constance, kept her waking the greater