This letter put Lefevre's conduct before him in a light in which he had not before seen it; and, in his turn, he became full of anxious concern. He waited impatiently for their appointed meeting. When Douglas arrived, he hastened towards him, clasping his hand with eagerness, and exclaiming, "Forgive me, my dear Douglas! I have injured you! I do not entertain any of those doubts my letter seemed to imply. Impute them to an excessive interest in your welfare."

"I dislike to boast of forgiveness," replied Douglas, "as it appears to involve superiority. At present it is needless, as I do not feel offended. I knew you too well to believe, from two or three hasty lines, you could seriously think me capable either of reserve or suspicion."

"You are generous-you are generous, my dear friend!" cried Lefevre. "I hope this little misunderstanding will produce a good effect."

"I trust it will," returned Douglas. "It may, if wisely improved, promote the steadiness of our friendship, without im

pairing its warmth. But," continued he smiling, "because some good may arise from this misconception, pray don't conclude that they are favourable to friendship; and that it is worth while to quarrel for the pleasure of reconciliation."

"I take your hint," said Lefevre, "I will be on my guard. But, by the by, does not this seem to be a sort of term in the friendship of many?"

"Some foolish persons appear to act on the maxim if they have not formally adopted it," said Douglas. "Those persons, however, who can really injure the feelings of a friend, to purchase that excitement which accompanies reconciliation, have not the primary qualification for friendship. Friction may be necessary to give warmth to a heartless coalition; but it fritters away the fine sensibilities of friendship. At least, I feel this is true as far as I am concerned. I can only rest on that bosom which peace and confidence inhabit."

The summons now arrived to attend the tea-table of Mrs. Russell. As they

were leaving the room to obey it, Lefevre accosted his friend, "Stay one minute, my dear James, I wanted to ask you when you commence your journey."

"I am not quite certain as to the day. Have you arranged, as you proposed, to join me at F and proceed on a visit to your good mother?"

"I believe I have secured the consent of my superiors, you shall know dates, &c. before you leave. My mother is on the tiptoe of expectation,' not permitting herself to think of disappointment in seeing her son and the friend of her son.""

66

May she meet with none!" said Douglas, affectionately, as they entered

the hospitable apartment of the Russells.

CHAPTER VI.

AGREEABLY to the proposed arrangement, Lefevre met his friend Douglas at F and in his company passed forward to the place of his birth and education. They arrived in safety in the afternoon of the day, without any occurrence worthy of notice. No sooner had the carriage driven up to the door of his mother's residence, than it flew open, and the anxious parent stood in the passage eager, once more, to embrace her child. "Charles, my dear Charles!" exclaimed she, seizing his hand, and impressing a kiss on his cheek, "how glad I am to see you." Then, recollecting herself, she turned to Mr. Douglas, and presenting her hand, said "Welcome, Sir, to my roof,twice welcome, on my son's account and on your own. Although I have never had the pleasure of seeing you before," added she, smiling, "I know you well by description."

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Mrs. Lefevre was tall and rather full featured. Her countenance was composed of a set of well proportioned and handsome lineaments, and united to express, in a powerful degree, that entire good nature, which never fails to excite love and dependance. Her manners seemed admirably adapted to support the impression made by her countenance. Without a

particle of affection, or the knowledge of etiquette, she discovered that genuine politeness, which ever flows from a benevolent regard to the comfort of others, and which can flow from nothing else. To an intelligent observer, there was something in her look, that spoke of manifold trials and vicissitudes; but, it was not grief, nor vexation, nor discontent; it was that softened composure and exalted complacence, which are sometimes produced by sanctified affliction. The repetition of her sorrows had given her the habit of yielding to them; so that, like the April sun shining in the midst of passing clouds, she seemed to smile on all the common accidents of life.