to compose herself was impossible,—until the first impulse of despair subsiding, a calm and settled melancholy succeeded, resembling submission, but which, in fact, was sapping the foundation of her existence.
Her declining health could not pass long unnoticed by her aunt, and the concern she felt on that account revived the former apparent kindness she had borne her niece. Pleased and encouraged at finding herself restored to favor, Oriana no longer hesitated to make an avowal to her aunt of her long and secret intercourse with Philimore, stating every circumstance, with the exception of the many private meetings held at the house of their mutual friend Miss Morris, and more particularly dwelling, with tremulous emotion, on Philimore's late change of conduct.
Having finished, her aunt, as may be supposed, could not forbear manifesting some indignation, that a clandestine love affair should have been so long carried on under her roof. Somewhat appeased, however, by the pleadings and intercessions of her niece, added to the confidence she then, though at so late a period, reposed in her, she w as inclined to pass it over.
Oriana also submitted, for her aunt's perusal, all the letters she had received from Philimore, which, with the exception of a few of later date, invariably portrayed the warm effusions of his soul; combining sentiments calculated to enlarge the understanding
