Mrs. Spottiswoode signed to Christobelle to withdraw, and she retired into the dressing-room. Penelope continued kneeling, and embracing the hands of her complaining friend.

"Julia, open your heart to your old favourite, and remember there was a time when we never concealed a thought from each other's knowledge."

Julia gasped and trembled.

"Julia, your friend has guessed the struggles you have endured, and your flight has increased her love and high respect, if it could allow an increase. It is not every ill-used wife—it is not every desolate heart—that could have flown from Neville." Julia's hands became cold as marble in Mrs. Spottiswoode's grasp, and she turned her face from her friend's gaze in terror.

"Julia," continued Mrs. Spottiswoode, "by every recollection of our childhood passed together—by the tenderness which ever existed between us, and by our attachment, which has survived absence and silence, open your heart to your poor Penelope! It is only known to Chrystal and myself, that your temptations have been severe, and your virtue severer still. It is to our bosoms alone that your confessions have been made, Julia; and we love, with a deeper feeling of esteem, the virtues we could not emulate under the same trial. Do not speak in humility to us—do not fear to boast of the victory over your own heart!"

"Have I then been delirious, Penelope? Have I spoken of him in bitterness? Have I said any thing of Ennismore in anger? I have no anger towards him. He was but weak and devoted to his mother. My father cautioned me! I have no excuse, Penelope. How anxiously my father cautioned me, and how stupidly I rejected the caution!"

"You were young, Julia; you could not suspect an artful and cold-hearted woman!"

"So we say, when a parent's anxiety has been scoffed at, and we are crushed by a dreadful experience. I knew my father's indulgence—I knew his fears for my happiness—yet I turned to listen to the dictates of a wretched ambition. Oh, my mother, my mother, you sacrificed me!"

Julia sank upon the pillow from which she had risen with a strong effort, and continued, in faltering accents—"Penelope, did I mention another name? If I did, have mercy on me, and forbear to judge your friend! You do not know how I have striven to do right!"