introduction of heraldry. The only true knowledge, according to her creed, is the knowledge of the world, by which she means a knowledge of the most courtly etiquette---the manners and habits of the great, and the newest fashions in dress. Ignoramuses might suppose she entered deeply into things, and was thoroughly acquainted with human nature---no such thing ---the only wisdom she possesses, like the owl, is the look of wisdom, and that is the very part of it which I detest. Passions or feelings she has none; and to love, she is an utter stranger. When, somewhat "in the sear and yellow leaf," she married Mr Sufton, a silly old man, who had been dead to the world for many years. But after having had him buried alive in his own chamber till his existence was forgot, she had him disinterred for the purpose of giving him a splendid burial in good earnest. That done, her duty is now to mourn, or appear to mourn, for the approbation of the your Now for world. And now you shall judge for Aware of her cousin's satirical turn, Mary was not disposed to yield conviction to her representation, but entered Lady Matilda's drawing-room with a mind sufficiently unbiassed to allow her to form her own judgment; but a very slight survey satisfied her that the picture was not overcharged. Lady Matilda sat in an attitude of woe---a crape-fan and open prayer-book lay before her---her cambric handkerchief was in her hand---her mourning-ring was upon her finger---and the tear, not unbidden, stood in her eye. On the same sofa, and side by side, sat a tall, awkward, vapid looking personage, whom she introduced as her brother, the Duke of Altamont. His Grace was flanked by an obsequious looking gentleman, who was slightly named, as General Carver; and at a respectful distance was seated a sort of half-cast gentle woman, something betwixt the confidential friend and humble companion, who was incidentally mentioned as "my good Mrs. Finch." Her Ladyship pressed Lady Emily's hand "I did not expect, my dearest young friend, after the blow I have experienced -I did not expect I should so soon have been enabled to see my friends; but I have made a great exertion. Had I consulted my own feelings, indeed!-but there is a duty we owe to the world-there is an example we are all bound to shew-but such a blow!" Here she had recourse to her handerchief. "Such a blow!" echoed the Duke. "Such a blow!" re-echoed the General. "Such a blow!" reverberated Mrs. Finch. "The most doating husband! I may say he lived but in my sight. Such a man!" "Such a man!" said the Duke. ral. "Such a man!" exclaimed the Gene "Oh! such a man !" sobbed Mrs. Finch. as she complacently dropped a few tears. At that moment, sacred to tender remembrance, the door opened, and Mrs. Downe Wright was announced. She entered the room as if she had come to profane the ashes of the dead, and insult the feelings of the living. A smile was upon her face; and, in place of the silent pressure, she shook her Ladyship heartily by the hand, as she expressed her pleasure at seeing her look so well. "Well!” replied the Lady," that is wonderful, after what I have suffered-but grief, it seems, will not kill!" "I never thought it would," said Mrs. Downe Wright; "but I thought your having been confined to the house so long might have affected your looks. However, I'm happy to see that is not the case, as I don't recollect ever to have seen you so fat." Lady Matilda tried to look her into decency, but in vain. She sighed, and even groaned; but Mrs. Downe Wright would not be dolorous, and was not to be taken in, either by sigh or groan, crape-fan, or prayer-book. There was nobody her Ladyship stood so much in awe of as Mrs. Downe Wright. She had an instinctive knowledge that she knew her, and she felt her genius repressed by her, as Julius Cæsar's was by Cassius. They had been very old acquaintances, but never were cordial friends, though many worthy people are very apt to confound the two. Upon this occasion, Mrs. Downe Wright certainly did; for, availing herself of this privilege, she took off her cloak, and said, " 'tis so long since I have seen you, my dear; and since I see you so well, and able to enjoy the society of your friends, I shall delay the |