customed to share each other's griefs, and support each other through all our little troubles, that we do not know how to live without pity and the consolations of affection. But man, in the pride of his sex, may not choose that a cherished sorrow should be noticed and soothed, even by a devoted wife. He may wrestle with it and overcome it, as he has done at other times, and the cloud now on his breast and his brow may subside. Hold yourself at all times ready to receive any communication with your wonted kindness, but seek not to lift the veil, even to pour balm on the wound it hides."
"But can I be cheerful when he is sad, Mary? can I doubt whether sorrow or anger, or ill health, oppresses him, and never seem to care for his affliction?"
"Apply your cares exclusively to the last named evil, which will enable him to hide or reveal as much as he pleases. Let us both strive to win him into conversation, receive all our pleasures and information from his hands, be willing to take what he gives, and never regret what he withholds—and in time (perhaps a short time) he will be all himself."
Thus Mary spoke, and Isabella thankfully acceded to her advice, but deeply did the elder sister grieve that there was occasion to give it, for she was far from being persuaded that it was for a buried love poor Glentworth was now suffering. To the pure mind of Isabella thought of no other had arisen; and it was far better that the generous romance of her young heart should expatiate on the rival in heaven, than for a mo-
