Laura was indebted partly to nature, but more to her own exertion, for that happy elasticity of spirit which easily casts off lighter evil, while it readily seizes, and fully enjoys, pleasure of moderate intensity, and of frequent attainment. Few of the lesser sorrows of youth can resist the cheering influence of early morn; and the petty miseries which, in the shades of evening, assume portentous size and colour, diminish wonderfully in the light of the new-risen sun. With recovered spirits, and reviving hopes, Laura awoke to joys which the worldly know not,--the joys of pious gratitude--of devout contemplation--of useful employment; and so far was her persevering spirit from failing under the disappointments of the preceding day, that she determined to begin a new picture from the moment she was settled at Glenalbert, to compose it with more care, and finish it with greater accuracy, than the former; and to try its fate at the exhibition. She did not think the season of her father's depression a fit one for relating her mortifying adventures, and she found means to amuse him with other topics till he left her, with an intention to call in Portland Street. He had not been gone long, when Mr Warren's curricle stopped at the door, and the young gentleman, on being informed that the Captain was abroad, inquired for Miss Montreville. After paying his compliments like one secure of a good reception, he began--'How could you be so cruel as to refuse me the pleasure of seeing you the other day--do you know I waited here a devilish long time just on purpose, though I had promised to take the Countess of Bellamer out an airing, and she was off with Jack Villars before I came.' 'I am sorry,' said Laura, 'that I deprived her Ladyship of your company.' 'I should not have minded it much, if you had but come at last--though the Countess is the prettiest creature in London--curse me if she isn't--the present company always excepted.' 'Do you mean the exception for me, or for yourself?' said Laura. 'Oh now, how can you ask such a question?--I am sure you know that you are confoundedly handsome.' Laura gravely surveyed her own face in an opposite looking-glass, and then, with the nonchalance of one who talks of the most indifferent thing in nature, replied,--'Yes, I think my features are uncommonly regular.' Warren was a little embarrassed by so unusual an answer to what he intended for a compliment. 'The girl,' thought he, 'must be quite a fool to own that she thinks herself so handsome.' However, after some consideration, he said,--'It is not so much the features, as a certain _je ne sçai quoi_--a certain charm--one does not know well what to call it, that makes you look so divine.' 'I should suppose,' said Laura, 'from the subject you have chosen to amuse me, that the charm, whatever it is, has no great connection with intellect.' Warren hesitated; for he began to have some suspicions that she was laughing at him, in spite of the immoveable gravity of her