to deceive her," and addressed her with a petulance and acrimony so new and alarming in her, that the tender sister burst into tears of sincere sorrow and profound compassion,
"Isabella," said she, at length, "I pity you more than I have words to express; but I must also exhort you; if you cannot conquer the sorrow which has seized you wholly, yet you may control the temper which arises from it, otherwise, you may render a temporary trouble a life-long alienation, for many women have done so. You are encouraging a passion which will not only destroy your happiness, but your amiability, and may really bring upon you the evil you dread. 'You are jealous, Isabella!'"
"And have I no cause! Can you, Mary, in whose integrity I could at one time have fully confided, deny that I have cause for suspicion? and have not you, in many little matters, tried to mislead me?"
"I have undoubtedly tried to put the best construction on your husband's conduct; and when you did so yourself, were you not much happier than you are now? and was it not more consistent with the obedience you have promised, the honour in which you hold him? Surely, you do not wish to hold out Mr. Glentworth to the world as a man who would, in so short a time, degrade himself by deserting the young wife so lately married for love. You cannot explain in what his error consists. You cannot accuse him of any thing tangible—and every one
