inesses in life, as there are many troubles.

Mrs. Edgeworth tells us that after her stepdaughter's return to
Edgeworthtown she occupied herself with various literary works,
correcting some of her former MSS. for the press, and writing 'Madame de
Fleury,' 'Emilie de Coulanges,' and 'Leonora.' But the high-flown and
romantic style did suit her gift, and she wrote best when her genuine
interest and unaffected glances shone with bright understanding sympathy
upon her immediate surroundings. When we are told that 'Leonora' was
written in the style the Chevalier Edelcrantz preferred, and that the
idea of what he would think of it was present to Maria in every page, we
begin to realise that for us at all events it was a most fortunate thing
that she decided as she did. It would have been a loss indeed to the
world if this kindling and delightful spirit of hers had been choked by
the polite thorns, fictions, and platitudes of an artificial, courtly
life and by the well-ordered narrowness of a limited standard. She never
heard what the Chevalier thought of the book; she never knew that he
ever read it even. It is a satisfaction to hear that he married no one
else, and while she sat writing and not forgetting in the pleasant
library at home, one can imagine the romantic Chevalier in his distant
Court faithful to the sudden and romantic devotion by which he is now
remembered. Romantic and chivalrous friendship seems to belong to his
country and to his countrymen.

IX.

There are one or two other episodes less sentimental than this one
recorded of this visit to Paris, not the least interesting of these
being the account given of a call upon Madame de Genlis. The younger
author from her own standpoint having resolutely turned away from the
voice of the charmer for the sake of that which she is convinced to be
duty and good sense, now somewhat sternly takes the measure of her elder
sister, who has failed in the struggle, who is alone and friendless, and
who has made her fate.

The story is too long to quote at full length. An isolated page without
its setting loses very much; the previous description of the darkness
and uncertainty through which Maria and her father go wandering, and
asking their way in vain, adds immensely to the sense of the gloom and
isolation which are hiding the close of a long and brilliant career. At
last, after wandering for a long time seeking for Madame de Genlis, the
travellers compel a reluctant po