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must be to others, not to me! I should blush to be of the number of those who want documents, certificates, to love and honour you!"

Again Juliet was speechless; again all words seemed poor, heartless, unworthy to describe the sensibility of her soul, at this touching proof of a tenderness so consonant to her wishes, yet so far surpassing her dearest expectations. She hung over her ingenuous young friend; she sighed, she even sobbed with unutterable delight; while tears of rapture rolled down her glowing cheeks, and while her eyes were lustrous with a radiance of felicity that no tears could dim.

Charmed, and encouraged, Lady Aurora continued: "To those, then, who have not had the happiness to see you so justly; who dwell only upon the singularity of your being so . . . . alone, and so . . . . young,—O how often have I told them that I was sure you as little knew as merited their evil constructions! How often have I wished to

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