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for the universe I would not hurt her!—but if it were possible she could condescend to give, . . . . however slightly, however imperfectly, some little explanation to . . . . to . . . Mrs. Howel . . . . ."

Juliet here, with a strong expression of horrour, interrupted her: "Mrs. Howel?—O no! I cannot speak with Mrs. Howel!—I had nearly said I can see Mrs. Howel no more! But happier days would soon subdue resentment. And, indeed, what I feel even now, may more justly be called terrour. Appearances have so cruelly misrepresented me, that I have no right to be indignant, nor even surprised that they should give rise to false judgments. I have no right to expect,—in a second instance,—unknown, friendless, lonely as I am! a trusting angel! a Lady Aurora!"

The tears of Lady Aurora now flowed as fast as her own. "If I have been so fortunate," she cried, "as to inspire such sweet kindness in so noble a mind, even in the midst of its unhappiness, I