principles of virtue: she is an estimable woman, and much to be pitied.”—We were interrupted by Mary’s running towards us to take leave of Mrs. Heartley. She threw her arms around her neck, and, fondly kissing her, said, “Now you will believe that I am comfortable! One day in a month like this would be happiness! You see I have now a dear, kind friend!”—Our general adieux followed; but again Malcolm deserted us for the plea of business at Wilson’s. Whether it was owing to my dose of flattery, or to the rum bottle, I will not decide; but certain it is, that Miss Lucretia received us with good humour. She was more than commonly loquacious; and I, with the patience of a Lady Maclairn, listened to the history of her sprained knee, which had spoiled her for a walker. This disastrous subject gave place to her inviting me to take an airing with her the following morning, when she engaged to shew me a very “pretty country.” But this was nothing, for I was even proof against a long story in which her dear brother Philip was the hero, and I was led to approve of his conduct by a direct interrogation. “Was not his behaviour noble?”—I forgot the tale, but I recollect he saved a young woman’s being thrown from her horse. I had, however, my measures to keep, and we retired for the night in perfect good humour. What a simpleton I have been in not at first beginning to manage this woman by my address! She would fetch and carry like a spaniel were she but flattered. But more of this hereafter. You must know more of Mrs. Heartley and her fair daughter Alice. Mrs. Heartley is more indebted to an air of fashion and dignity, for the attractions of her person, than either to her features or shape. Her face would be called homely were it not lighted up by her dark and expressive eyes; and although I believe she is defective in her shape, she moves with grace, and is what you would distinguish by the title of an “elegant woman.” Her daughter would at once be thought by the admirers of half-starved, pale-faced beauties, as too nearly approaching to the dairy maid; for contentment and health have given Alice an _embonpoint_ beyond the prescribed rules of fashion. She is a clear brunette, and her damask cheek has a _rouge_ which thousands vainly strive to imitate. A pair of large hazel eyes give life and spirit to her round and dimpled face, and when she smiles (and Alice has yet to learn that smiles and laughter are vulgar) she is a perfect Hebe; and Mrs. Allen wished Bunbury had seen her, as he would not have omitted to give this laughter-loving nymph in his charming group of rural beauties. She tells me that I have not been just to Alice: perhaps I have not; and that I should have been more lavish of my praise of this handsome girl, had she not been by the side of Miss Howard. But again I pronounce this young creature to be nature’s master-piece! I had not before seen her animated by pleasure or exercise, nor could I have believed her delicate