blessed; and in Lord Avondale's society every hour brought her joy. Perhaps the feelings which, at this time united them, were too violent—too tumultuous. Few can bear to be thus loved—thus indulged: very few minds are strong enough to resist it. Calantha was utterly enervated by it; and when the cares of life first aroused Lord Avondale, and called him from her, she found herself unfit for the new situation she was immediately required to fill. When for a few hours he left her, she waited with trembling anxiety for his return; and though she murmured not at the necessary change, her days were spent in tears, and her nights in restless agitation. He more than shared in her distress: he even encouraged the excess of sensibility which gave rise to it; for men, whilst they love, think every new caprice and weakness in the object of it but a new charm; and whilst Calantha could make him grave or merry—or angry or pleased,
