ndels. An opportunity soon presented itself. The house which the
ladies inhabited was advertised for sale; and, under pretence of an
intention to purchase, he wrote Mrs Arundel, desiring to know when it
would be convenient for him to call; to which Mrs Arundel returned a
polite answer, naming an early day.

Mr Newton went; and, after he had viewed the house and gardens with the
air of an intending purchaser, Mrs Arundel, desirous of cultivating the
acquaintance of so distinguished a neighbour, asked him to stay tea;
which being unhesitatingly accepted, he was introduced to the fair, the
amiable, the still mourning Ellen. Prepared by the universal voice to
admire, love was the immediate consequence of a visit, which he
requested leave to repeat, in terms with which civility could not refuse
to comply; and a few weeks confirmed Mr Newton the ardent and the
professed lover of Ellen. But her heart was still engaged; nor could she
abandon even a hopeless passion. The character, the fortune, the
unobjectionable person of Mr Newton, were urged to her, by her only
friends, with such energy, but mildness, of persuasion, that, enforced
by the declarations of her admirer, she was prevailed upon to promise
him her hand, though not her heart; and a day was named for the
celebration of their nuptials.

The necessary preparations now engaged the attention of Mr Newton and
the two matron ladies; whilst Ellen passively yielded to the assiduities
of her friends, and suffered the adornments of her person, and the
intended provisions of settlement to be adjusted, without once
interfering.

A few mornings before the appointed day, as Ellen was seated at
breakfast with her mother and aunt, a note was put into her hands. She
saw at a glance that it was from Mr Newton; and she immediately handed
it across the table to Mrs Arundel, who read:--

"MADAM,--That your heart is not at all interested in the intended event,
you have, with candour, frequently acknowledged to me. You will not,
therefore, even wish to receive an apology for my releasing you from an
unsuitable engagement.

"My long-lost son--my son whom I had for years resigned to Heaven--is
restored to me; and Providence, which has bestowed on me this consummate
happiness, will not permit me to add to it a wish which concerns myself.
He is young; he is amiable; and more worthy of your regard than I am. It
is my sincere wish that he should become your husband. I shall,
therefore, tak