hould go upon the continent, and, having
passed a year there, return to England, when there was no knowing what
change of sentiment time and absence might not produce in my favour.
"For," said he, "there is one very remarkable difference in the heart
of a man and of a woman. In the first, absence is very often a cure
for love. In the other, it more frequently cements and consolidates
it. In your absence, Emily will dwell on the bright parts of your
character, and forget its blemishes. The experiment is worth making,
and it is the only way which offers a chance of success."

I agreed to this. "But," said I, "as the war with France is now over,
and that with America will be terminated no doubt very shortly, I
have no wish to put you to the expense, or myself to the trouble, of
fitting out a sloop of war in time of peace, to be a pleasure-yacht
for great lords and ladies, and myself to be neither more or less than
a _maitre d'hotel_: and, after having spent your money and mine, and
exhausted all my civilities, to receive no thanks, and hear that I
am esteemed at Almack's only 'a tolerable sea brute enough.' A
ship, therefore," continued I, "I will not have; and as I think the
continent holds out some novelty at least, I will, with your consent,
set off."

This point being settled, I told Clara of it. The poor girl's grief
was immoderate. "My dearest brother, I shall lose you, and be left
alone in the world. Your impetuous and unruly heart is not in a state
to be trusted among the gay and frivolous French. You will be at sea
without your compass--you have thrown religion overboard--and what is
to guide you in the hour of trial?"

"Fear not, dear Clara," said I; "my own energies will always extricate
me from the dangers you apprehend."

"Alas! it is these very energies which I dread," said Clara; "but
I trust that all will be for the best. Accept," said she, "of this
little book from poor broken-hearted Clara; and, if you love her, look
at it sometimes."

I took the book, and embracing her affectionately, assured her, that
for her sake I would read it.

When I had completed my arrangements for my foreign tour, I determined
to take one last look at ---- Hall before I left England. I set off
unknown to my family; and contrived to be near the boundaries of the
park by dusk. I desired the postboy to stop half a mile from the
house, and to wait my return. I cleared the paling; and, avoiding the
direct road, came up to the