f for
the thought. I will, said I faintly, endeavor to rejoice if it be so. I
felt a conflict in my mind, between my principles and my passion, that
distressed me not a little. My integrity had never before been so
assailed. At length they returned; I earnestly examined their
countenances. Both looked cheerful, and even animated; yet it was
evident from the redness of their eyes that they had been weeping. The
company immediately took their leave; all our party, as it was a fine
evening, attended them out to their carriages, except Miss Stanley: she
only pressed the hand of Mrs. Carlton, smiled, and looking as if she
durst not trust herself to talk to her, withdrew to the bow window from
whence she could see them depart. I remained in the room. As she was
wiping her eyes to take away the redness, which was a sure way to
increase it, I ventured to join her, and inquired with an earnestness I
could not conceal, what had happened to distress her. "These are not
tears of distress," said she, sweetly smiling. "I am quite ashamed that
I have so little self-control; but Mrs. Carlton has given me so much
pleasure! I have caught the infection of her joy, though my foolish
sympathy looks more like sorrow." Surely, said I, indignantly to myself,
she will not own Lord Staunton's love to my face?

All frank and open as Miss Stanley was, I was afraid to press her. I had
not courage to ask what I longed to know. Though Lord Staunton's
renewed addresses might not give them so much pleasure, yet his
reformation, I knew, would. I now looked so earnestly inquisitive at
Lucilla, that she said, "My poor friend is at last quite happy. I know
you will rejoice with us. Mr. Carlton has for some time regularly read
the Bible with her. He condescends to hear her and to invite her
remarks, telling her, that if he is the better classic, she is the
better Christian, and that their assistance in the things which each
understands must be reciprocal. If he is her teacher in human
literature, he says, she must be his in that which is divine. He has
been very earnest to get his mind imbued with scriptural knowledge; but
this is not all.

"Last Saturday he said to her, 'Henrietta, I have but one complaint to
make of you; and it is for a fault which I always thought would be the
last I should ever have to charge you with. It is selfishness.' Mrs.
Carlton was a little shocked, though the tenderness of his manner
mitigated her alarm. 'Henrietta,' resumed h