She then began to consider what she should say to Mr. Munden in relation to this affair: she knew not but he might already be apprized of what had passed; or if even he were not so, she thought it would be impossible to keep her in the house without his privity; so resolved to be quite open in the affair.

She was right in her conjecture: Mademoiselle de Roquelair had happened to ring the bell for something she wanted; Mr. Munden hearing it, and knowing his wife was abroad, asked who was above; and this question occasioned the man, who was then dressing him, to give an account, as far as was in his power to do, of the last night's accident.

This a little surprized him, yet not enough to keep him from the Park, where he constantly walked every day an hour or two before dinner; but on his return, he immediately interrogated his wife concerning her new guest; on which she told him, without the least reserve, every circumstance of this transaction; he listened attentively to what she said, but testified neither any dislike or approbation of her conduct in this respect: he said no more to her after she had done speaking; but behaved with the same sullen silence he had always done since her adventure with Lord ——; and as soon as dinner was over, went out to pass the remainder of the day, and best part of the night, according to custom.

Mrs. Munden's good-nature would not suffer her to go abroad the whole afternoon; she passed all the hours, till bed-time, with Mademoiselle Roquelair, and did every thing in her power both to comfort her in the affliction she was under, and to fortify her in the good resolution she seemed to have taken: the next morning she received, as she expected, the following billet from her brother.

'To Mrs. Munden.

Dear Sister,

In compliance with your desires, and to be certain of getting eternally rid of the sight of a woman who has so much abused the kindness I had for her, I consent to grant her request of being enabled to go into a monastery: a friend of mine has great dealings with a merchant at Bologne; I will see him this afternoon, and pay into his hands the sum which I am told is sufficient for that purpose. If you give yourself the trouble to call on me to-morrow morning, I will give you his order for her receiving it on her arrival. I cannot think of entering your house while she is in it; but am always, dear sister, your affectionate brother,

T. Thoughtless.'

Mrs. Munden having imparted the contents of this letter to Mademoiselle de Roquelair, she seemed as much contented as a person in her circumstances could be: she dined below that day; and Mr. Munden treated her with the same politeness and complaisance he always used towards persons over whom he had no power.

The next morning did not fail of carrying his fair wife to her brother's about the hour in which she imagined he would expect her; but on the moment of her entrance, she had the mortification of being accosted by him in these terms: 'My dear sister,' said he, "I was just going to send to you, to prevent your giving yourself this needless trouble. The gentleman I went to is out of town, and will not return these two days: so nothing can be done in this woman's affair till he comes back.' She told him she was extremely sorry; 'Because,' said she, 'delays are sometimes dangerous: but I hope, my dear brother, no second considerations will make you frustrate the good intentions of this unhappy penitent.'—'No, no!' cried he; 'I wish she may persevere in them as steadfastly as I shall to the promise I have made.' Satisfied with this assurance, she made her leave, little suspecting, while she was labouring with all her might in this good office, that cruel and ungenerous return which was about to be made for her compassion.

Mr. Munden had seen Mademoiselle de Roquelair no more than once; but that once was sufficient to make him become enamoured—her beauty fired him—the known wantonness of her inclinations encouraged him—he scarce doubted of success; but in case of a failure, and if she should even acquaint his wife with his attempt, her character furnished him with the pretence of having made it only to try how far her conversion was sincere.

He therefore hesitated not a moment if he should endeavour the accomplishment of his desires; and, for the doing so, no time was to be lost, as she was so suddenly to depart. Mrs. Munden was no sooner gone out, than he went softly up stairs to the chamber of this too lovely and less more virtuous stranger: she was sitting in a pensive posture, leaning her head upon her hand, when he came in; but rose to receive him with that respect which she thought due from her to the husband of her protectress.

After the salutations of the morning were over, 'Is it possible,' cried he, taking one of her hands, and looking earnestly on her face, 'that such youth, such beauty, charms in such profusion, should be condemned to a cloyster? No! it cannot be! All the powers of love and pleasure forbid you to make so unnatural a choice!' Transported and amazed at hearing him speak in this manner, she could not forbear telling him, with her eyes, that her thoughts corresponded with his words; but willing her tongue should preserve the decency of the character she had assumed, at least till he should make a farther declaration of his sentiments; 'If I were, indeed,' answered she, 'all that can be described of beautiful, I could not, sure, be an offering too amiable for Heaven!'