have been a worthier offering! But thy fear is the beginning of wisdom; and in that fear is my trust, that a broken and a contrite spirit thou wilt not despise.
"Will you not, my dear and kind friend, come and see me? I shall be so happy, if I can once tell you, that, though the orphan for a moment forgot your kindness, its memory was not effaced. I have thought of you, and prayed for you. You will come, dear Lady Mandeville. I want you to know Beatrice. You will love her, and your kindness may benefit her. She will be more grateful than I have been. Will you not come to-morrow?
"Your affectionate
"Emily Arundel."
It was a curious coincidence, that this letter was put into Lady Mandeville's hand while she was making some arrangements for their Italian journey, and was in momentary expectation of her husband's arrival. How often did the tears fill her eyes as she read its contents! "Poor dear Emily!—but she cannot, must not, be so ill as she fancies. 'Will you not come to-morrow?' Does she think I could hesitate?"
Hastily turning from the untasted breakfast,
