I confess I have rambled strangely from my story:  but what of that? if I have been so lucky as to find the road to happiness, why should I be such a niggard as to omit so good an opportunity of pointing out the way to others.  The very basis of true peace of mind is a benevolent wish to see all the world as happy as one’s Self; and from my soul do I pity the selfish churl, who, remembering the little bickerings of anger, envy, and fifty other disagreeables to which frail mortality is subject, would wish to revenge the affront which pride whispers him he has received.  For my own part, I can safely declare, there is not a human being in the universe, whose prosperity I should not rejoice in, and to whose happiness I would not contribute to the utmost limit of my power:  and may my offences be no more remembered in the day of general retribution, than as from my soul I forgive every offence or injury received from a fellow creature.

Merciful heaven! who would exchange the rapture of such a reflexion for all the gaudy tinsel which the world calls pleasure!

But to return.—­Content dwelt in Mrs. Temple’s bosom, and spread a charming animation over her countenance, as her husband led her in, to lay the plan she had formed (for the celebration of Charlotte’s birth day,) before Mr. Eldridge.

CHAPTER IX.

We know not what A day may bring forth.

Various were the sensations which agitated the mind of Charlotte, during the day preceding the evening in which she was to meet Montraville.  Several times did she almost resolve to go to her governess, show her the letter, and be guided by her advice:  but Charlotte had taken one step in the ways of imprudence; and when that is once done, there are always innumerable obstacles to prevent the erring person returning to the path of rectitude:  yet these obstacles, however forcible they may appear in general, exist chiefly in imagination.

Charlotte feared the anger of her governess:  she loved her mother, and the very idea of incurring her displeasure, gave her the greatest uneasiness:  but there was a more forcible reason still remaining:  should she show the letter to Madame Du Pont, she must confess the means by which it came into her possession; and what would be the consequence?  Mademoiselle would be turned out of doors.

“I must not be ungrateful,” said she.  “La Rue is very kind to me; besides I can, when I see Montraville, inform him of the impropriety of our continuing to see or correspond with each other, and request him to come no more to Chichester.”

However prudent Charlotte might be in these resolutions, she certainly did not take a proper method to confirm herself in them.  Several times in the course of the day, she indulged herself in reading over the letter, and each time she read it, the contents sunk deeper in her heart.  As evening drew near, she caught herself frequently consulting her watch.  “I wish this foolish meeting was over,” said she, by way of apology to her own heart, “I wish it was over; for when I have seen him, and convinced him my resolution is not to be shaken, I shall feel my mind much easier.”