rosa, who had not before been sufficiently in spirits to visit Minette, repaired alone and on foot in the evening, to her habitation. The door was opened by the fat woman, and informing her with some confusion, that her friends did not take the lodgings, because they could not have the first floor immediately. She then asked for Mrs. Belmont.-The fat woman eagerly replied

"Lauk mem, only to think, Mrs. Belmont was brought to-bed the very night after you had seen her, and a fine bouncing boy it is, sure enough; and mother and child are both as well as can be expected. His papa ha'n't seen it yet, for he went into the country that very day, and called soon after you, mem. I think the babe's the very moral of him; he can't deny him; and I must say this for Mr. Belmont, that he is as fine a man as ever stepped in shoe leather."

Tired of her gossip, Amelrosa put a stop to it, by requesting she would go and ask the lady, if she might be admitted to see her, without fluttering her spirits, and the fat woman returning directly, shewed her up.

"I

Minette held out her emaciated hand, when she approached the bed-side, saying, as she shook it in a friendly manner, am now quite reconciled to the idea of seeing you, convinced of your compassionate goodness, and when I am sufficiently recovered and have attained some strength of mind, shall relate to you every thing that has befallen me; while I thank heaven for having sent me such a consoling friend."

Amelrosa's obliging answer to this speech, appeared to give her pleasure, and a faint smile irradiated her countenance. Minette then shewed her the infant, which was a very fine babe; but in its minute features she thought (unlike the fat woman)

it would be difficult to trace a likeness to any person. The remainder of the evening, Amelrosa continued with her, and did every thing in her power to amuse, without fatiguing her; reading the greater part of the time, with the hope that it would divert her from yielding to melancholy reflections, which evidently seemed to oppress her mind, and whenever she looked at her infant the tears would bathe her pallid cheeks.

When Amelrosa went into the next room to fetch something, the nurse addressed her, and said, "I wish Miss, you would persuade my lady, not to give way to low spirits. She is a nice good lady, and it is a sweet fine baby; but if she frets so much, she will injure herself and the baby too."

In consequence of hearing this, Amelrosa gently hinted to Minette, that for the sake of her child, she should admit of

consolation, and gained a promise from her, that in consideration of her infant, for whom she appeared to feel all a mother's fondness, she should endeavor to conquer her grief. Amelrosa now left her more tranquil and comforted, and soothed by her visit; entreating her with her last words, not to suffer many days to elapse before she came to see her again. This she readily promised, and returned to Piccadilly in a hackney coach.

The following day she received the subsequent short letter from Lady Archdale, who had not written to her for nearly three weeks, merely sending verbal messages.

My dear Amelrosa,

"I am much the same as yesterday, and have not closed my eyes to-night. Many thanks for your enquiries: but I beg you not to think of me, as it only adds to my low spirits, to find that I distress those hearts, that I wish to enjoy more peace and

comfort

comfort than I believe, will ever be felt by me. Weak and unable as I am, I write to assure you of my affections, and that I shall send the chariot to bring you here tomorrow about three o'clock. I am as ill and miserable as I can be, but with great regard,

"Your affectionate

"F. ARCHDALE."

This letter, concise as it was, agonized Amelrosa, and she involuntarily exclaimed, while the bitter drops of sorrow swam in. her dark blue eyes. "Alas! my friend,

my benefactress, are you indeed so ill, and the daughter of your adoption not suffered to be with you? Cruel beings, to estrange my mother from me!" for she had been accustomed to call Lady Archdale by the endearing name of parent; and her ladyship generally styled her by the flattering appellation of daughter. The perturbation of her mind prevented her from taking any

rest,