present to his thoughts? that life is only life when passed at my side? How intensely I feel the happiness of being loved! I am so grateful for it! Till now I have been so unappreciated, so uncared for; no one, since my dearest uncle's death, has desired to read my thoughts, or to look beyond the surface, and find what deep and passionate affections lay below.
I am the better for being beloved; I desire to be kinder to others; I would fain share my utter content; a deeper pity crosses me when I see sorrow. I was growing selfish, cold, careless; I am so no longer. I listen patiently, a sweet and ready sympathy seems to knit me closer to my kind. Life had grown so wearisome, I hoped for nothing, cared for nothing; now, a new delight mingles with all things; a look, a word of his, makes my heart beat with tumultuous pleasure.
The other night, he came sooner to Lady Townshend's than was expected, and for my sake. I knew he was there before I saw him. How different he is to everybody else! Per-
