carried off in a few weeks by a fever, at Marseilles. Elizabeth was expecting to become a mother; and the next hurried intelligence from her father announced the disappointment of her hopes,--and spoke of his intention of taking her on to Italy as soon as her health would permit. These few lines had been sent to her at the desire of Elizabeth, and she could not but feel them a proof of her unaltered friendship. Margaret felt, after this shock, as young people cumbered with much feeling are apt to do, when they see and hear around them so much of sorrow and alarm. Every thing seemed insecure; she could picture no happiness sufficiently stable to be worth desiring; she looked round to see what new misfortune threatened herself; she was possessed with a feeling of vague apprehension. But her religious impressions, always sincere, and now deepened by the experience of sorrow, enabled her in time to combat this feeling of undue depression. Always gentle, she became more grave than was common at her years; more than would have been graceful in so young a person, had it not been tempered by the remarkable sweetness of her disposition. She found too the benefit of constant occupation. She learned that nothing so effectually dispels regret. Her improvement in every branch of knowledge was great enough to content even herself; and in music, her favourite recreation, Mrs. Fitzpatrick often told her that she could at any time have gained her living by her proficiency. The next event of her tranquil life was the receipt of a box of bride-cake, and a letter from Harriet Conway. This was in the month of November; just three months after the death of Sir Philip. The letter, which was written in a good bold hand, ran as follows:---- "Ma mie, "Do not take it into your head that this is a piece of my bride-cake. Somewhere in the box you will find the cards--Lord and Lady Raymond. I wonder if you recollect who I am. Also, I wonder if you are as pretty as you were two years ago? To be sure you think I might have asked the question a little earlier. But we returned from Germany only a short time before Lucy's marriage. "I am now at Singleton Manor, and desire you, on the receipt of this, to set off directly, and join me there. I have your promise, and, therefore, you cannot very well be off paying the visit. So come instantly; I cannot endure to wait for anything; and stay as long as ever I please. So say Uncle and Aunt Singleton, besides the veritable mistress of the mansion," "HARRIET CONWAY." Margaret at last found the cards Harriet mentioned under a quantity of bon-bons. She rather wondered that her friend was still Harriet Conway; but she was glad that this singular young lady still bore her in mind.