Whilst these scenes passed in Ireland, Lady Eltondale and Miss Seymour arrived at Cheltenham. At first, Selina's delight at breathing once more the pure air of the country made her almost wonder at the pleasure she had so lately found in the feverish amusements of London. Her step was still more elastic, as she trod the beautiful meadows that lay along the banks of the Chelt; and when, mounted on her favourite mare, she extended her rides to the surrounding hills, she seemed to regain a fresh existence.

The picturesque beauties of Dodswell, the magnificent panorama of Lackington Hill, the curious remains of Sudeley castle, all were in time explored and admired by Selina; and often did she prefer a solitary walk amongst the sheltered lanes of Alstone, to accompanying Lady Eltondale to the morning mall, where crowds assembled at the Wells ostensibly in search of health, but really in pursuit of pleasure. In one of these morning walks, as she rested under the shadow of a gigantic oak, while the fresh breeze played on her glowing cheek, and the song of earliest birds alone interrupted the general silence, her thoughts involuntarily turned to those days which had glided by in similar scenes, when she used to bound like the fawns she chased through the park at Deane, or with more measured steps, though not less buoyant spirits, attended her father, as in his Bath chair he took his morning exercise on the broad smooth terrace, that stretched along the south front of the venerable mansion. The whole scene rose to her mind's eye, and she saw, in imagination, the lawns, the fields, the gardens, in which she had spent so many happy hours, and which were

She dwelt with a melancholy pleasure on the recollection of all the beloved companions of her earlier years, and sighed to think, that those moments of innocent delights would never again return to her. From this painfully pleasing reverie she was roused by the crying of a child, and the sound of an angry voice, exclaiming in a harsh key, "Hold your tongue, you little devil—ban't I going as fast as I can?" It seemed as if manual correction followed this expostulation, as the infant's cries were redoubled, and Selina heard its little voice, saying in a plaintive tone, "Mammy, mammy, me be a-hungry, me be tired." At that moment a turn in the road presented the speakers to her view, and she beheld a young woman, in whose pallid cheeks disease and wretchedness struggled for preeminence. A few coarse black locks strayed from under a cap, which might once have been white, but now in dirt and yellowness rivalled the complexion of the wearer, whilst it served to contrast a gaudy riband, by which it was encircled; a ragged, coloured handkerchief scarcely concealed her shrivelled bosom; and a cotton gown, which in its variegated pattern showed all the hues of the parterre, trained in the dust, and was partly caught up under her arm, below which appeared a tattered stuff petticoat, that scarcely reached to her knees. Her countenance was, if possible, more disgusting than her dress: her dark black eyes and oval forehead showed still some trace of beauty; but an expression of unblushing vice called forth sensations rather of disgust than of compassion. The little ragged urchin, that trotted by her side, endeavoured, on seeing Selina, to hide its head beneath her gown; but after a moment's deliberation, she dragged him from his concealment, and pushing him forward, desired him to demand charity. Selina, pitying the infant, more from the appearance of its associate than even from its own wretchedness, could not deny its request; and while she gave the poor child all the silver her purse contained, she inquired if the woman was its mother. "To be sure I am, my lady," replied she, in a tone of impertinent carelessness; "else what do you think I'd be troubled with such a brat as that for?" "It seems a fine boy," returned Selina, willing to rouse the maternal feelings that seemed so nearly extinct. "And where do you live?" "Down in that hut yonder, and a pretty penny I pay for it. Our landlord never comes to these here parts; if he did, he wouldn't let us be so racked; but he never thinks of us when he is away, and Mr. Smart, his agent, raises our rents just as he pleases; but he has our curses for his gains;" so saying, she seized the child roughly by the arm, and pursued her way, muttering imprecations Selina shuddered to hear. She also proceeded towards home; but her thoughts now took a more unpleasant turn. She recollected with sorrow how many poor cottages on her estate might also, with reason, lament the loss of a landlord, who had always inquired into their distresses and relieved their wants. But she, though possessed of such extensive means of being useful to her fellow-creatures, had hitherto seemed to consider the possession of fortune only as affording her a more ample opportunity for selfish gratification. She called to mind the happiness she had formerly experienced in charitable occupations; and reflected, with remorse, that since she had plunged into the vortex of dissipation, no tear had been wiped from the cheek of indigence by her generous aid—no smile of gratitude had hailed her approach to the couch of misery or pain. Of the many hours she had wasted in the pursuit of pleasure, not one had been devoted to the purposes of benevolence; and while she had lavished uncalculated sums in extravagance and folly, she had never purchased the inestimable benefit of a poor man's blessing.

This trifling incident served to awaken in Selina's mind feelings and reflections that had long lain dormant. The whole tenour of Lady Eltondale's conduct had been calculated to efface all the impressions formerly made on her, both by the precepts and example of the admirable Mrs. Galton; and while her Ladyship contrived, by cautious degrees, to impede, and finally almost destroy the correspondence with her, which might have served occasionally to recall the first, the latter was almost totally obliterated from her mind by the entirely new scenes, into which she had been introduced. As to the habits of charity, to which both from inclination and instruction she had been early habituated, but little opportunity for their exercise had occurred since her residence with the Viscountess; for the very servants at Eltondale were too polite to admit a vulgar beggar within its gates; and in London she had been taught to consider all vagrants indiscriminately as impostors, whom it was almost a crime to relieve.

But are those aware, who are anxious to find plausible excuses for delaying or omitting the fulfilment of the duties of charity, that the feelings of the human heart, though inflamed by casual restraint, are extinguished by a continued suppression? And wo be to that breast, in which the sentiments of benevolence and compassion are destroyed! The virtues of humanity, as they are those which most peculiarly belong to this present state of existence, so is the exercise of them most necessary to our individual happiness in this world; for he, whose heart has never melted at the sorrows of others, will assuredly, sooner or later, know the agony of seeking in vain for one sympathising bosom on which to repose the burden of his own.

When Selina returned home, she was scarcely less pleased than surprised to find Mr. Sedley seated at breakfast with Lady Eltondale. They were so deeply engaged in conversation, that her entrance was unnoticed by either; and as her astonishment at perceiving so unexpected a guest made her pause for a moment at the door, she heard Lady Eltondale say, apparently in continuation of a previous speech, "And have you proof of this from himself, Mr. Sedley?" "Yes; proofs such as must convince even your Ladyship; otherwise I would never have made the proposal I have done." Selina here interrupted him, but her appearance was so sudden, that it was many minutes before he could collect his thoughts to address her with any composure. Lady Eltondale, however, showed no embarrassment; she inquired most kindly what had so long detained Selina; said that she and Mr. Sedley, whom she had accidentally met at the well, had walked miles in search of her; and finally joined in her vivacious raillery against Mr. Sedley for his visible confusion. In answer to Selina's inquiries when he arrived at Cheltenham, "Only yesterday," said he; "I was quite disappointed at not meeting you at the rooms last night. How is the detestable head-ache that Lady Eltondale told me prevented your accompanying her there?" While Selina hastily dismissed the subject of her casual indisposition, which, in truth, she had hardly remembered, a momentary surprise glanced across her mind at the recollection, that Lady Eltondale had not mentioned to her having seen Mr. Sedley; but she had not time to dwell on the thought, as the Viscountess immediately renewed her inquiries as to what could have so unusually prolonged Selina's walk; and the beggar woman and her boy recurring to her mind, she forgot all her doubts and past reflections, in the earnestness with which she entered into the description of all the wretchedness, which she "was sure the poor infant must suffer from its unfeeling mother." Lady Eltondale seemed to take uncommon interest in the relation, which she prolonged by apposite questions and remarks of "Poor child!—Of course you gave it something.—No wonder you returned so late.—I suppose you were just come home, just opened this door, as I perceived you.—Dear infant, I should like to have seen it!" And thus continued the conversation, while Mr. Sedley took a turn or two across the room; put into his pocket a letter-case that lay beside his coffee-cup, and regained all his customary self-possession. With his usual manners he resumed his place in Selina's estimation; and the hours flew by unnoticed, as he entertained her with the relation of a thousand ridiculous adventures, all of which had occurred either to himself or "his particular friends," during the space of three weeks, which he called an age, since they parted. And in truth he did not much exaggerate, when he described his regret at their having been so long separated. Like the unguarded moth, he had flitted round the flame till he actually suffered for his folly; for his improved acquaintance with Selina, during the latter part of their stay in London, had so far increased his admiration of her, that what was at first merely a preference chiefly influenced by pecuniary considerations, had now become a passion almost too powerful to be controlled. He had yet however sufficient command over his feelings, to avoid any verbal expression of them; and, while he carefully demonstrated how interesting to him had been all her observations, by delightedly referring to their former conversations, and recapitulating even her most trifling remarks, his present adulation was so delicately conveyed by inferred compliment alone, that, while Selina was gratified by the flattering attention, thus obviously paid her, she felt it would have but compromised her own modesty, had she, by disclaiming praise thus subtilely offered, appropriated to herself an admiration that was only insinuated. And how did Lady Eltondale approve of this? In truth she was not aware of the whole tendency of Mr. Sedley's discourse; a stolen glance or a peculiar emphasis explained his application of a particular sentence to her, who alone he meant should understand him; et au reste, the Viscountess, like a skilful navigator, always floated down a stream she found it impossible to stem.

Selina almost persuaded herself, that every clock and watch in the house was out of order, when Lady Eltondale asserted, that the hour was come for Fazani's raffle, which she had particularly patronized; and as, accompanied by the Viscountess and Sedley, Selina walked under the dark avenue, that led to that fashionable rendezvous, she could not help internally observing, "how much Mr. Sedley's vivacity and good-nature enlivened every society of which he was a member."