her—his likeness to herself—his manner

so superior to that of a child in his situation. The long concealed truth, at once flashed upon her. A thousand times she was tempted to speak upon the subject. She had not promised to conceal it from Lord Avondale: she was in the habit of telling him every thing: however she was now for the first time silent, and there is no more fatal symptom than when an open communicative disposition grows reserved.

END OF VOL. I.

LONDON: PRINTED BY SCHULZE AND DEAN, 13, POLAND STREET.