than to trace it to its true source a craving love for admiration. How great was the contrast between Miss Waldegrave and the exemplary Julia Rivers! one, in a vain pursuit of pleasure, was almost indifferent as to the means of accomplishing the attainment of it; the other, to fulfil the claims of duty, sacrificed her last poor remains of happiness-one, with every means of worldly joy, was restless and dissatisfied; the other, laden with sorrows of every description, was resigned, tranquil, serene, and even happy. CHAP. CHAPTER V. Le ton de la boune conversation est coulant et naturel; il n'est ni pesant ni frivole; gai sans tumulte, poli sans affectation, galant sans fadeur. J. J. ROUSSEAU. "Miss Waldegrave," exclaimed lord Frederic Beauchief, advancing to meet that young lady, as she entered the splendid drawing-rooms of his aunt, where a large assemblage of people were gathered together, engaged in endea vouring to wile away the tiresome halfhour before dinner, "there is lady Ros-vellyn, miserable, sick, fretful, and complaining; here is lady Caroline Fitzormond, lazy, yawning, though smiling; here is sir Gower, angry, fidgetty D 6 cold, craving love for admiration. How great was the contrast between Miss Waldegrave and the exemplary Julia Rivers! one, in a vain pursuit of pleasure, was almost indifferent as to the means of accomplishing the attainment of it; the other, to fulfil the claims of duty, sacrificed her last poor remains of happiness- one, with every means of worldly joy, was restless and dissatisfied; the other, laden with sorrows of every description, was resigned, tranquil, serene, and even happy. CHAPTER V. Le ton de la boune conversation est coulant et naturel; il n'est ni pesant ni frivole; gai sans tumulte, poli sans affectation, galant sans fadeur. J. J. ROUSSEAU. "Miss Waldegrave," exclaimed lord Frederic Beauchief, advancing to meet that young lady, as she entered the splendid drawing-rooms of his aunt,. where a large assemblage of people were gathered together, engaged in endea vouring to wile away the tiresome halfhour before dinner, "there is lady Rosvellyn, miserable, sick, fretful, and complaining; here is lady Caroline Fitzormond, lazy, yawning, though smiling; here is sir Gower, angry, fidgetty cold, and hungry; here is George, roaring, dancing, screaming, laughing with delight; and though last, not least, here is Ashbourne, sad, and sympathizing with his mother, as in duty bound, cheerful and amusing with his sister, caressing and playing with his nephew, and listening to the complaints, and softening the anger, of his enraged brother-in-law, who, poor man! has, I understand, been obliged to leave his own comfortable dwelling in winter, to come to a place he wished to stay away from." "I should as soon," returned Georgiana, "have expected a dormouse to leave its nest in winter, as sir Gower to have quitted his palais de la vérité in a snow storm." "Why do you call Dalberry Park the Palace of Truth? For my own part, I am always tempted to denominate it the Ogre's Castle,” cried lord Frederic. "I call it le palais de la vérité, my lord, because the most disagreeable truths are |