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every way ; the lady has relations who never jest, and our courts make us pay dear for our unfortunate love affairs. I bought the silence of our hostess ; and here I am at Messina, where I mean to pass some time far from her whose reputation will be protected by my absence.' This conversation made little impression on me at the moment. I only remarked two things- the cool, frivolous corruption of the young dandy, and the depravity of his accomplices. On my return to my lodgings, a packet of letters and newspapers were lying on the table ; I recognized the handwriting of my wife, and hastened to break open her letter. No one could be attached by tenderer ties to a lover, a sister or a wife than those which united me to Mary. Her letter was truly the effusion of a pure and devoted heart. Ever since our marriage she had never caused me a moment's pain. She belonged to one of the most illustrious families in the peerage, and had been brought up in strict retirement in one of the wildest counties in England, and added to elegance and aristocratic dignity, the rare magic of touching ingenuousness. She mentioned a journey to Bath, and her sudden return to London caused by the ill health of her mother. In these lines, filled with feeling, I traced the breathing of her angelic soul, and felt myself most blessed in having such a wife, when, laying my hand on the newspapers, a strange thought came across me. The word Bath so often repeated by the dandy, was found also in my wife's letter ; the coincidence filled me with terror. It was not a doubt, it was not a suspicion ; it seemed to wake a vague, mournful, yet distant certainty. I was in an agony. Between her virtue and my confidence a demon seemed to rise to eclipse the brilliancy of my happiness, and to plunge me into the deepest misery. I rose and paced the chamber, and not till near morning did the bitterness of my reflections abate. At length I felt more calm, and took up the journals which I had till then neglected. After having carelessly scanned the political and literary intelligence, the following extraordinary paragraph met my eyes, and I read it with an anxiety which amounted to pain:—

" It is reported that filial piety inspires the young and beautiful Lady O, who has suddenly quitted the pleasures of Bath to follow her suffering parent. On dit, that the reputation of the daughter is as broken as the health of the mother.' "The paper fell from my hands ; my name is Osprey. Had twenty balls torn my breast at once, I should not have suffered more. In the fluctuation of my mind I knew not on what to fix ; the more I thought the more my anxiety increased ; my brain was on fire. I threw myself on the bed-at one moment my wife appeared to me as my first love, at the next an odious monster. The word Bath echoed in my ears a funeral knell. At eleven o'clock I went out, and almost mechanically

directed my steps to a Benedictine convent, where a man resided with whom I had become acquainted since my stay at Messina. He was called Father Anselmo, He was a powerful-minded man, and fully gave the lie to the vulgar opinion, which peoples convents only with an idle, ignorant, and useless race. I had much confidence in him ; I thought he esteemed me, and I revealed to him the cause of my agitation ; I did not conceal the slightest incident of my life. He listened attentively ; then taking my hand, he said only Follow me.' He seemed more serious than ordinary. We entered the church-it was empty. Father Anselmo conducted me up the nave and stopped before the altar. ( My son,' said he, " though our belief differs in forms, kneel here. I am a priest and an old man ; you shall receive my counsels as from a pastor and a friend ; you shall bend your knee, not to me, but to that God, who, though he afflicts, will comfort us ; we will pray together.' I was most unhappy. I did as he told me ; and after a short time spent in devotion, he continued his conversation. Your grief has a foundation ; set out for England, write to your wife without seeming to suspect her; then go to Bath where this woman lives whose silence has been bought ; offer her a better price, and she will reveal all. When you are convinced of the truth, you will then have only to act upon the knowledge, either to leave the guilty one to her own remorse, or to restore the faithful wife to your confidence." " Anselmo was an oracle to me. Without delay I put his advice in execution, and in two days embarked for England. Immediately, on arriving at Falmouth, I set out for Bath ; it was there that the traces of crime were to be found, and there alone hope could await me. I stood before the hotel which Sir Ormonde had described. I entered ; my whole body shook with fear. A woman about thirty and rather pretty, presented herself to me as the mistress of the house. Tea was brought at my request, and under pretext of having been from England for some time, and wishing to hear a little news of the country, I told the waiter to ask his mistress to take tea with me. "My purpose was about to be answered, I was going to converse with her who knew the fatal secret. She came into my room, but my conversation was so incoherent that she was astonished . I was so occupied by the only subject that had power to interest me, that my words were obscure and confused. I saw she looked at

me with unfeigned surprise. " I beg your pardon, Madam,' said I, at length, but you perceive my disquietude, I have cause for the deepest grief, for I have the most dreadful suspicions to clear up. I am jealous of a woman I adore, and the anxiety I feel shows itself in my conversation.' I saw that her woman's heart was interested in my sorrow, and that

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