Hitherto

tion with Moulville had commenced. he had fhewn no repugnance at the intimacy be tween his daughter and Henry; for he was ftrongly fenfible of the obligation which he lay under to the latter the moment, however, that this fenti ment grew weaker, he began to reflect on the im policy of allowing them to continue together any longer. He accordingly refolved to feparate them, though he cautioufly concealed his real motives for fo doing; he clothed it under the pretence of the fituation disagreeing with him; and of his having fome private bufinefs of the greateft importance to tranfact at Paris, which required his conftant attendance there. For my part, I clearly penetrated his true intention; and I too well knew, that no perfuafion could make him alter his refolution. As this was the cafe, I entreated Henry to fhake off his forrow which had seized his mind on hearing Moulville's determination; and I exhorted him to endeavour to get the better of his attachment, by reflecting on the impoffibility of obtaining the object of his affection.

"The day before Moulville's departure, we all met at my houfe. I was concerned at the fadnefs which fat on the countenances of the young people; but Moulville did not feem to obferve it: he, however, put on a fair appearance, and expreffed

preffed deep forrow at parting with friends who were fo dear to him, and to whom he was under lafting obligations. He likewife entreated us, if ever we came to Paris, to make his houfe our home. My fon was, once or twice, on the point of declaring the mutual love which fubfifted between Julia and him, had I not checked him by a look. In truth I imagined fuch a declaration might give the old gentleman occafion to part in anger; and, as I hoped that abfence might extinguifh their affection, I was unwilling that this fhould be the cafe.

"In the afternoon, the weather being beautiful, Henry and Julia wandered out to their accuf tomed retreat. Here they walked up and down for fome time in profound filence: they then feated themselves under the tree; and the recollection f the pleasure which they had fo often enjoyed in each other's company in this fpot, and the recollection of it's being, perhaps, the last time nat they should ever meet there again, caused the tears to trickle plentifully down their cheeks. Often did they attempt to fpeak, and as often did their forrow deprive them of utterance. Henry, at length, recovered himself so far as to fay, "Dear Julia, perhaps your father may return again: he, furely, cannot be fo unkind as to separate us for

ever! Come what will, I am refolved to follow you; for death itself would be preferable to feperation from you." Julia, who knew her father's difpofition and intentions but too well, looked at him penfively, and heaved a figh. As a token of her fincere and unceafing affection, however, the prefented him with the fmall miniature of herself, which you faw in my hand; and he received and preferved it as fomething facred.

"The fhades of night were beginning to fet in, when Moulville took his leave of me, as he intended to depart early the next morning. I accordingly accompanied him to the fpot where Henry and Julia were feated; whence, having again bade us farewell, he took his departure homewards, with his daughter; and I, with Henry, directed my steps towards the house again.

"The melancholy which fixed on the young man, for fome time after his departure, gave me the greatest concern. Inftead of pursuing the occupations in which he formerly took delight, he was continually wandering about the spots which he used to frequent with his beloved Julia. Sometimes he preffed me to return to Paris, but I conftantly objected to this; because, as I faid before, I was in hopes that abfence would weaken his at

tachment,

I one morning took him into my ftudy, and him "My dear fon, from the well known cl

er of Moulville, from the pride of high ra fuperior fortune, I am well convinced in m mind that he can never be brought to con his daughter's being efpoufed to the fon of chant. Though, from a fenfe of obligation t he has not openly avowed his real purpose moving from hence, yet I clearly perceive diffolve the connection between you ar daughter. Since this is the cafe, then my Henry, fhake off the melancholy which har your mind, and do not let forrow prey o health."

"He made no reply; but, as foon as I h ded, he rose, and left the room: whence ftened to the tree, where he gazed for fom on the picture, and burst into tears.

"Some time after this, he affected a ch nefs which but ill concealed the anguish mind. I imagined, however, that he bega the propriety of what I had urged, and was vouring to follow my advice. I was pleafir felf with the hope that he might foon fu but, alas! this expectation was blafted by a which plunged me in woe unutterable.

"One morning-it was in the fummer feafon -I had rifen, as was ufual with me, about fix o'clock. The weather was charming; and, be ing defirous of taking a ramble about the coun try, I went to Henry's room, to ask him to accompany me. As no anfwer was returned to frequent calls I opened his door, but the room was empty. Suppofing then, that he had gone out before me, I wandered along, expecting to meet or overtake him. I paffed by his favourite refort, and purfued the road we ufually took toge ther; but I faw no trace of him. I imagined, on this, that he might have taken a different road, and returned home to breakfaft; but several hours had elapfed after it was over, without either seeing or hearing of him. I now grew very anxious; for he was always regular and punctual. Servants were dispatched to different parts of the country to search for him; but they all returned. at night, without fuccefs. I now feared that the agitation of his mind might have produced fome fatal effect; and accordingly gave orders that his body should be fought for in all the neighbouring rivers and at the bottoms of the precipices; but, alas! after the moft diligent enquiry for more than a week, I could not obtain the fmalleft intelligence of him.