somewhat consoled, however, by observing in his sister’s countenance the expression, as she thought, of extreme mortification. A few days after this visit, Miss Turnbull received the following note from Miss Elmour: “MY DEAR ALMERIA, “If you still wish that I should treat you as a friend, show me that you do, and you will find my affection unaltered. If, on the contrary, you have decided to pursue a mode of life, or to form connexions which make you ashamed to own any one for a friend who is not a fine lady, let our intimacy be dissolved for ever--it could only be a source of mutual pain. My father is better to-day, and wishes to see you. Will you spend this evening with him and with Your affectionate ELLEN ELMOUR?” It happened that the very day Miss Turnbull received this note, Lady Bradstone was to have a concert, and Almeria knew that her ladyship would be offended if she were to spend the evening with the Elmours: it was, as she said to herself, _impossible_, therefore, to accept of Ellen’s invitation. She called upon her in the course of the morning, to make an apology. She found Ellen beside her father, who was seated in his arm-chair: he looked extremely pale and weak: she was at first shocked at the change she saw in her old friend, and she could not utter the premeditated apology. Ellen took it for granted that she was come, in consequence of her note, to spend the day with her, and she embraced her with affectionate joy. Her whole countenance changed when our heroine began at last to talk of Lady Bradstone and the concert--Ellen burst into tears. “My dear child,” said Mr. Elmour, putting his hand upon his daughter’s, which rested upon the arm of his chair, “I did not expect this weakness from you.” Miss Turnbull, impatient to shorten a scene which she had neither strength of mind to endure nor to prevent, rose to take leave. “My dear Ellen,” said she, in an irresolute tone, “my dearest creature, you must not distress yourself in this way--I must have you keep up your spirits. You confine yourself too much, indeed you do; and you see you are not equal to it. Your father will be better, and he will persuade you to leave him for an hour or two, I am sure, and we must have you amongst us; and I must introduce you to Lady Bradstone--she’s a charming woman, I assure you--you would like her of all things, if you knew her. Come--don’t let me see you in this way. Really, my dear Ellen, this is so unlike you--I can assure you that, whatever you may think, I love you as well as ever I did, and never shall forget my obligations to _all_ your family; but, you know, a person who lives in the world, as I do, must make such terrible sacrifices of their time--one can’t do as one pleases--one’s an absolute slave. So you must forgive me, dear Ellen, for bidding you farewell for the present.”