that the young lady might not be disturbed, withdrew; but her friend, Charlotte Hamilton, would not depart without seeing Maria; she repaired to her room, and inquiring into her illness, for some time could obtain no answer. At last, Maria informed her of her suspicions, and their grounds. Charlotte endeavoured to convince her that she must certainly be mistaken; and besides, from what she had read and heard, it was possible for a man to be passionately fond of one woman, though he might pay some attention to another. “What, though he intrigues with another?” said Maria. “Yes,” said Charlotte; “at least so Fielding and Smollett tell us, and they knew human nature very well.--Do not you remember Upton, my dear?” “Yes; but did Jones leave his Sophia in order to meet another?” “Do not you,” replied Charlotte, “remember the grove where there was the battle with Thwackum?--Do not you remember Roderic Random and Nannette?” “Why, Charlotte,” said Maria, half smiling, “you have stored your memory with the best passages.” “Poogh,” said Charlotte, “one cannot help remembering what one reads.” “But,” said Maria, “the cases are not in point; these were all accidents, and might be forgiven; the present is certainly an assignation,--and an assignation, to keep which, he leaves me:” here she again burst into tears. Charlotte wishing to comfort her friend, proposed to stay with her all night, which was thankfully accepted. Meanwhile, our hero repaired to the Steyne, and there met two females; one of whom he found to be the Countess of Cockatrice, and accompanied her to the house of a fat woman that sold toys, in the adjacent part of North-street, while her husband exercised divers other professions in another quarter. The attendant, who was the lady’s own waiting maid, went into the parlour with the plump hostess, and her lord and master, who was supping very sociably with his consort, perfectly reconciled to the exercise of her immediate occupation, or any other that should help to fill his pockets. The lady, with the gentleman, went to the drawing-room. As the subject of conversation had nothing in it of any importance to the public, our hero never detailed it to us, and therefore, we cannot detail it to our readers. We trust, however, should any countesses be in that number, the security and innocence belonging to that illustrious rank will convince them, that in conference with a right honourable lady, nothing but what was _right honourable_ could pass. Our hero, about one, returned. The next morning, at breakfast, inquiring where his sister was, he learned that she had stayed with Maria, who was taken ill.--“Taken ill?” said Hamilton, alarmed,--“my beloved Maria ill?” and without waiting for any answer, ran out. Etterick was breakfasting in his room, and his daughter attending him; so that with Mrs. Hamilton, there were only her father and brother. “I have suspected,” said she, “from the first time