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 not; I can see him with the scorn, with the indifference he deserves. Do not look thus, my dearest aunt: dry your tears: I am not worth one single tear now; but I will act in future so as to silence even these too just reproaches."

"Do you repent, Calantha?"—"Do not talk of repentance: I cannot feel it: my sin is light compared with his."—Towards your husband,"—Oh! Lord Avondale, he is happy enough: he cares not."—"Indeed he does, my child. I tremble for you: every hour of your life is a continual warfare and peril. One danger no sooner ends than another arises. Will you never consider the duties of your situation, or the character you have to form and to preserve?"—"Who is more loved than I am? On whom does even the world smile with greater kindness? Beauties, wits, the virtuous—can they cope with me? I am every one's friend, and every one loves, even though they blame Calantha." As