mind, when you recover from the first shock of the heavy affliction it has pleased Providence to assign you. You may, if it is any consolation, take with you an old man's blessing; whose utmost wish would be gratified in having a daughter to resemble you." Mrs. Temple, who had been nearly as much comforted by his commendation as Adelaide, now said, "Rouse yourself, my dear girl, and look at all those impertinent Webberlys, as much as to say, 'I hold ye in sovereign, contempt.' I wish you were not content, with _feeling_ your own superiority, but would occasionally assert it. I should like to see them smarting under the power of ridicule certain arch smiles have told me you possess--indeed, indeed, my dear, you are righteous over much: do oblige me, and be a little spiteful." By the time breakfast was over, Adelaide's spirits were comforted by Mr. Temple, and rallied by his wife. Though she could not trust herself to say, "Good bye," she stept into the carriage with tolerable composure; but when she lost sight of them and their cheerful abode, she experienced an acuteness of sorrow she some time before had thought she was as incapable of ever feeling again, as an equal degree of joy. When the carriage drove away, Mr. Temple made a speedy retreat into his study; and the traces of tears were still visible on his wife's face, when they met at dinner. CHAPTER XIII. One only passion unreveal'd With maiden pride the maid conceal'd; Yet not less purely felt the flame-- Oh! need I then that passion name? SCOTT. Civil people always meet with civility, and Adelaide accomplished her journey without meeting either accident or insult. When the carriage stopped at the Talbot Inn in Shrewsbury, she was received at the door by Mr. Webberly, who had evidently been watching her arrival. On her asking for his mother and sisters, he pointed to a window, where she saw Mrs. Sullivan attired in a sky-blue habit of cassimir, with a white beaver hat and feathers. Cecilia, in a modish pelisse, looking at that distance very handsome; and Miss Webberly, in the opposite window, _intently_ reading. Mrs. Sullivan met Adelaide half way down stairs, apparently glad to see her. The young ladies greeted her with a slight bow, just muttering a scarcely audible "How d'ye do:"--one turning to stare out of the window, the other affecting to bestow all her attention on her book. Little Caroline, exclaiming "Oh, tie my frock quick, quick! there's my dear Adele come: I hear mama talking to her,"--burst from an inner apartment, heedless of the remonstrances of her maid, and jumping up with one spring, twisted her ivory arms about her neck; and as Adelaide fondly pressed the lovely child to her heart, her countenance expressed those feelings-- "Which are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than Heav'n:"