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disgust,“ another beautiful bait for golden gudgeons—I never heard such bad taste in my life, as this instance of folly. Mrs. Vassall heralding her daughters into society in this style-actually a whole paragraph about the beautiful Miss Emma Vassall, whom her sister the Honorable Mrs. Amyott is to present.

The chaperone should have looked into the quiet drawing-room of a cottage about forty miles from London, high on the hilly border of Surrey. She would there have seen the sensation excited in the Vassall family, by the paragraph in question. Who could have put it into the Morning Post? Who was the officious friend, whose mistaken zeal had imagined it kindness, to draw down the awful eyes of the world upon their unobtrusive proceedings? Who could have been cruel enough to rouse, in so unprovokeda manner, all sorts of remarks, upon the folly and bad feeling of the widow, who could thus trumpet forth the beauty, and intended gay career of the daughter of the General Vassall, whose sudden and awful death, was still fresh in the world's retentive memory, although it was now some years since the event had occurred.

General Vassall, in a fit of temporary insanity, had destroyed himself. The reported failure of a house in which he had embarked the whole of his fortune, caused the direful catastrophe, and though the public papers only recorded his death as 6 sudden,” the facts were very generally known. From that hour Mrs. Vassall retired completely from the world. She had two sons, and four daughters, then almost children. When the girls advanced in life, she had not introduced them into society herself. Two had been chaperoned by their aunt, Mrs. Nugent, and were married—the third, Helen, owing to an accident in childhood, was debarred from all the amusements of her age,

and never wished to leave her mother's side-but the fourth, the high-spirited one, the beauty of the family, the indulged and spoilt idol of the house, she panted to join the cireles 80 temptingly described by her sister, Mrs. Amyott, and pined even in the free air of the Surrey downs. She could not enter into her mother's Peeling of distress, when she read the obnoxious paragraph. She could not see what harm it

was to do

“ Sooner or later, if I am to spend this. season with Fanny, as you promised me, mama, people must find out that another of us is introduced.”

Being introduced, and being presented at court are too widely different things," was Mrs. Vassallis answer, as the tears gathered gradually in her

eyes. “ I am sure the whole study of my life for many years, has been to shun observation and remark as much as possible, and now to think after all my anxious endeavours, I should live to see my name mentioned in that solumn of frivolity.”

But, mama, no one would imagine you put it in yourself!" retorted Emma, whose spirit was already rising, and who fancied herself aggrieved by the emotion exhibited by Mrs. Vassall on this occasion.

Worse," murmured the widow, closing her eyes to prevent the tears falling from them, “ had I been capable of such an act, I should have been a more callous, and consequently a happier woman-no one, no not even an enemy, would suspect me of it! and friends know as well as I do myself, that it would be death to me, were any of my children to make themselves either notorious or conspicuous in the world, particularly under the name of Vassall.”

The two elder daughters were Elizabeth, Mrs. Chetwood, and Fanny, Mrs. Amyott. Neither of them had made themselves either notorious or conspicuous, but Emma, the débutante, scorned all control, and rebelled against every law; therefore her education had been “ line upor line,” and “precept upon

precept," in order to train her if possible in the way which she should go.

Before we proceed any further in our story, it is our duty to prepare our readers for a shock. Our heroine, unlike all those who have preceded her, is no faultless monster, but full of imperfections. She had redeeming points, at least in the eyes of the world, for she was a very beautiful girl, but she carried within her fair bosom, a spirit intractable, a temper unsubdued. Emma's heart was warm, and perhaps had her training from infancy been more judicious, she might perchance have shaken off those shadows of pride and self-will, which at last gathered over, and obscured the better part of her nature—but alas ! our heroine was a spoilt child !

Emma was very young when her father so suddenly and fearfully died ! She was the lovely last born- the last child of a husband adored by his bereaved wife. Mrs. Vassall's

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