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When Charlotte awoke, &longs;he mi&longs;&longs;ed Montraville;
but thinking he might have ari&longs;en
early to enjoy the beauties of the morning, &longs;he was
preparing to follow him, when ca&longs;ting her eye on the
table, &longs;he &longs;aw a note, and opening it ha&longs;tily, found
the&longs;e words—

“My dear Charlotte mu&longs;t not be &longs;urpri&longs;ed, if &longs;he
does not &longs;ee me again for &longs;ome time: unavoidable
bu&longs;ine&longs;s will prevent me that plea&longs;ure: be a&longs;&longs;ured I
am quite well this morning; and what your fond
imagination magnified into illne&longs;s, was nothing
more than fatigue, which a few hours re&longs;t has entirely
removed. Make your&longs;elf happy and be certain
of the unalterable friend&longs;hip of

“Montraville.”

“Friend&longs;hip!” &longs;aid Charlotte emphatically, as
&longs;he fini&longs;hed the note, “is it come to this at la&longs;t?
Alas! poor for&longs;aken Charlotte, thy doom is now
but too apparent. Montraville is no longer interested
in thy happine&longs;s; and &longs;hame, remor&longs;e, and
di&longs;appointed love will henceforth be thy only attendents.”

Though the&longs;e were the ideas that involuntarily

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ru&longs;hed upon the mind of Charlotte as &longs;he peru&longs;ed
the fatal note, yet after a few hours had elap&longs;ed,
the &longs;yren hope again took po&longs;&longs;e&longs;&longs;ion of her bo&longs;om,
and &longs;he flattered her&longs;elf &longs;he could, on a &longs;econd perusal,
di&longs;cover an air of tenderne&longs;s in the few lines
he had left, which at fir&longs;t had e&longs;caped her notice.
“He certainly cannot be &longs;o ba&longs;e as to leave me,”
&longs;aid &longs;he, “and in &longs;tiling him&longs;elf my friend does he
not promi&longs;e to protect me. I will not torment myself
with the&longs;e cau&longs;ele&longs;s fears; I will place a confidence
in his honour; and &longs;ure he will not be &longs;o
unju&longs;t as to abu&longs;e it.”

Ju&longs;t as &longs;he had by this manner of rea&longs;oning
brought her mind to &longs;ome tolerable degree of composure,
&longs;he was &longs;urpri&longs;ed by a vi&longs;it from Belcour.
The dejection vi&longs;ible in Charlotte's countenance,
her &longs;woln eyes and neglected attire, at once told
him &longs;he was unhappy: he made no doubt but
Montraville had, by his coldne&longs;s, alarmed her
&longs;u&longs;picions, and was re&longs;olved, if po&longs;&longs;ible, to rou&longs;e
her to jealou&longs;y, urge her to reproach him, and by
that means occa&longs;ion a breach between them. “If
I can once convince her that &longs;he has a rival,” &longs;aid
he, “&longs;he will li&longs;ten to my pa&longs;&longs;ion if it is only to
revenge his &longs;lights.” Belcour knew but little of
the female heart; and what he did know was only
of tho&longs;e of loo&longs;e and di&longs;&longs;olute lives. He had no
idea that a woman might fall a victim to imprudence,
and yet retain &longs;o &longs;trong a &longs;en&longs;e of honour,

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as to reject with horror and contempt every solicitation
to a &longs;econd fault. He never imagined
that a gentle, generous female heart, once tenderly
attached, when treated with unkindne&longs;s
might break, but would never harbour a thought of
revenge.

His vi&longs;it was not long, but before he went he fixed
a &longs;corpion in the heart of Charlotte, who&longs;e venom
embittered every future hour of her life.

We will now return for a moment to Colonel
Crayton. He had been three months married, and
in that little time had di&longs;covered that the conduct of
his lady was not &longs;o prudent as it ought to have been:
but remon&longs;trance was vain; her temper was violent;
and to the Colonel's great misfortune he had
conceived a &longs;incere affection for her: &longs;he &longs;aw her
own power, and, with the art of a Circe, made every
action appear to him in what light &longs;he plea&longs;ed: his
acquaintance laughed at his blindne&longs;s, his friends
pitied his in&longs;atuation, his amiable daughter, Mrs.
Beauchamp, in &longs;ecret deplored the lo&longs;s of her father's
affection, and grieved that he &longs;hould be &longs;o entirely
&longs;wayed by an artful, and, &longs;he much feared, infamous
woman.

Mrs. Beauchamp was mild and engaging; &longs;he
loved not the hurry and bu&longs;tle of a city, and had
prevailed on her hu&longs;band to take a hou&longs;e a few
miles from New-York. Chance led her into the &longs;ame
neighbourhood with Charlotte; their hou&longs;es &longs;tood

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within a &longs;hort &longs;pace of each other, and their gardens
joined: &longs;he had not been long in her new
habitation before the figure of Charlotte &longs;truck
her; &longs;he recollected her intere&longs;ting features; &longs;he
&longs;aw the melancholy &longs;o con&longs;picuous in her countenance,
and her heart bled at the reflection, that
perhaps deprived of honour, friends, all that was
valuable in life, &longs;he was doomed to linger out a
wretched exi&longs;tence in a &longs;trange land, and &longs;ink
broken-hearted into an untimely grave. “Would
to heaven I could &longs;natch her from &longs;o hard a fate,”
&longs;aid &longs;he; “but the mereile&longs;s world has barred the
doors of compa&longs;&longs;ion again&longs;t a poor weak girl, who
perhaps, had &longs;he one kind friend to rai&longs;e and reassure
her, would gladly return to peace and virtue;
nay even the woman who dares to pity, and endeavour
to recall a wandering &longs;i&longs;ter incurs the &longs;neer of
contempt and ridicule, for an action in which even
angels are &longs;aid to rejoice.”

The longer Mrs. Beauchamp was a witne&longs;s to
the &longs;olitary life Charlotte led, the more &longs;he wi&longs;hed
to &longs;peak to her, and often as &longs;he &longs;aw her cheeks wet
with the tears of angui&longs;h, &longs;he would &longs;ay—“Dear
&longs;ufferer, how gladly would I pour into your heart
the balm of con&longs;olation, where it not for the fear of
deri&longs;ion.”

But an accident &longs;oon happened which made her
re&longs;olve to brave even the &longs;coffs of the world, rather
than not enjoy the heavenly &longs;atisfaction of comforting
a de&longs;ponding fellow-creature.

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