could not help feeling at his behaviour; my
regret, however, was but transient, I was not
more than seventeen, and I thought myself ||
sure of soon meeting with as good, or perhaps
a better offer.

My dislike to the country now returned, and I soon quitted Oakly Hall for my father's house in London. Mrs. Dashington, a lady who had been a particular friend of my mother's, undertook to introduce me into life, and no one could be better qualified for the task; her house was frequented by a number of elegant and fashionable men, many of whom paid me particular attention, but as my father's circumstances were well known to most of them, I had no serious proposals. I cannot express to you, Mr. Editor, the mortification I suffered, to find that women who did not possess a single recommendation, save wealth, were eagerly sought for in marriage, by those very men who had amused themselves perhaps for months before with dangling after me; however, I was still young, aud I cherished a hope, that when I did marry, I should be superlatively happy, since it would be plain, that my future husband was not actuated by mercenary considerations.

little attentions "not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as to be misunderstood," for as I had hitherto been all ice, I thought it would be prudent to thaw by degrees. I saw that mys plan succeeded, and that Mr. Torpid's attentions daily increased.

"What do you mean to do with that ani.. mal, Delia ?" said my friend Mrs. Dashing ton, one morning after he had been paying me an unconscionable long visit." I blushed, for though I had internally made choice of him. for a help-mate, I was actually ashamed to acknowledge it. She smiled.

"The man is a sad bore;" cried she "however,. he might do well enough for a husbaud, if he was rich, but unfortunately that is not the case, for his fortune is but just sufficient to support you with decency; have a little pa tience, you may yet do better."

My confused and hesitating reply, convinc ed her, I believe, that I was out of all patience, for she said :

"Well, if you must marry him, I think the sooner you conclude the matter the better; bas he never made you a serious offer?" I replied in the negative; but added, I had no doubt that it was his intention to do so very soon.

know what his intentions really are, for you must not lose your time with such a creature."

As to losing my time, I did not think that there was any danger of that, but I was exceedingly mistaken: would you suppose it possible, Mr. Editor, the first question he asked Mrs. Dashington was, "What fortune I had?" and on learning the sum, "he was very sorry, but these were expensive times; Miss Doleful was a very elegant woman, she had always, he knew, been accustomed to a certain style of life, and he was sensible his fortune was too small to support her properly; he was therefore obliged, though with great regret, to decline proceeding any farther in the business."

This hope supported my spirits for some years, but when I was about twenty-seven my "Well," said she, "when he next comes, father died, leaving me the little that he pos- will talk to him; he ought to have made prosessed; this sum was not by any means suf-posals before this time, and I am resolved to ficient to enable me to move in the circles that I had always lived in, and I determined to retire into Wales; but this step I was prevented from taking by the kindness of my friend Mrs. Dashington, who begged that in future I would make her house my home, and appropriate my little income to my pocket expences. I gladly accepted this truly friendly offer; but a sdependence was insup portably galling to my spirit, I abated a good deal of my original pretensions, and coudescended to render myself as agreeable as possible to a gentleman that had, as 1 supposed, long viewed me with partiality, though I had not ever exhibited the least symptoms of regard for him in return. In truth he was by no means calculated to excite any thing like a tender sentiment; for though he was generally allowed to be a good sort of man, he had not a single quality that could recommend him to the notice of a sprightly female, He was plain in his person, and his manners were singularly unprepossessing; yet, at this being, such as he was, did I seriously set my cap, and lost no time in commencing a siege in form.

I began by adopting Sterne's advice, and assailed Mr. Torpid with a series of those

Mrs. Dashington's anger at his conduct nearly equalled my own, and from that time she completely cut with him.

By this time I began to be looked upon as a little verging towards old maidenism, and the varions disappointments that I had met with, gave an expression of care to my countenance, and robbed my cheek of its natural bloom. I had hitherto trusted to nature, but I now had recourse to art; rouge and pearlpowder gave to my complexion more than its

own fairness and brillianey, and my face was studiously decked with smiles; but alas! all my pains were completely thrown away; I was deserted even by the ephemera that had hitherto dangled after me, and I soon found I was considered by every body as a decided old maid.

beauty or wit, consists in a pair of staring black eyes, and a wonderful facility of talking

nonsense.

And now, Mr. Editor, to come to the reason of my troubling you with this long letter, I cannot help, I confess, feeling inexpressibly piqued when I reflect that the single circumstance of my being unmarried should completely exclude me from the notice and admi

than myself are, as the phrase is, "the fashion," and are courted, followed, and admired by every male creature who would be thought to have taste. The charming Lady D——, the beautiful Mrs. P, and the lovely Countess of C, are the subjects of fashionable conversation, and the theme of Newspaper panegyric; yet every one of these ladies is some years my senior, and you must allow, Mr. Editor, it is extremely unjust that old maids should be treated with contempt and derision, while old wives are cried up for goddesses; nay, to such a height has the rage for married ladies been carried latterly, that I question whether Hebe herself would be allowed by our modern beaux to dispute the prize with the English Ninon lady,

This is now nearly ten years ago, and from that time to the present, I have had but one chance of altering my condition. Captain||ration of your sex, while married women older Bastion, a pleasant and sensible man, about my own age, a few months ago paid his addresses to me; I do not believe that he was absolutely mercenary, for though he did not know what fortune I actually was possessed of, yet I had taken care to throw out hints that I was not rich, but they did not seem to damp the ardour of his passion; unfortunately for me,before he had made proposals in form, Mrs. Tropic, the widow of a rich West Indian, saw him; she was pleased with his person and manners, and not being overburthened with delicacy, she frankly offered him her hand and fortune. His passion for me was not sufficiently strong to enable him to resist the temptation, and he married her. I did not know that they were even acquainted, till I was informed of their nuptials having taken place, by the following paragraph in one of the morning papers :

I am inclined, Mr. Editor, to give you credit for a large portion of taste and discernment, and if to these qualities you add good nature, perhaps between us we may suc ceed in overthrowing the reigning prejudica against my unfortunate sisterhood; it is a cause worthy of an abler champion than myself, and if either you, or any of your nume rous correspondents will take the trouble of proving by good sound argument, that an unmarried old woman has as many claims to ges

"Yesterday was married by special licence, at her house in - square, the beautiful widow Tropic, to Captain Bastion, of the regiment of foot; the immense wealth of the bride is as well known as her extraordinary mental and personal graces; and the Captain is envied by all the fine fellows in town the possession of so lovely a prize." The lady whose perfections are thus flat-neral admiration as a married one, it will exteringly noticed, is older by some years than ceedingly oblige your very humble servant, myself, and the whole of her claims to either DELIA DOLEFUL.

HISTORIC ROMANCES.-OR WONDERS IN REAL LIFE.

horror and atrocity, have annexed to them that superior interest which always belongs to truth. The following is a tale of this kind; it is no farther altered or added to by us than by taking it out of its quaint and antiquated style, and omitting some letters which only interrupted the action.

It is no reasonable subject of wonder, that the taste of the public, in a reading age, should be attracted to that style of narrative which is termed romance. It is a reasonable subject of astonishment, however, that the writers of the day have so puzzled themselves by having solely recourse to their fancy, when even the pages and records of history may furnish them In the city of Vannes, in the province of with infinitely better subjects. In some of the Brettague, in France, lived a gentleman of state trials in France and Italy are contained noble family and great wealth; his name was narratives which, together with their romantic | Monsieur de Caerstaing. By his lady, Madam

de la Valle Blanche, he had two sons, the eld- mute; but at length remembering that Valest named Quattresson, the youngest Valfon- fontaine was her lover, and Quattresson his taine; the former being about twenty-eight brother, began to imagine that there was years of age, the latter about twenty-three, and some contrivance between them, if they should both of them accomplished according to their not succeed with her father, to steal her away. rank. Valfontaine, being on a visit to his Under this impression she granted his request. uncle in the city of Nantz, became there ac- Quattresson then made a full acknowledgequainted with a lady of the name of La Pra- ment of his dishonourable passion, lamenting tiere, a young woman of exquisite beauty, and his treachery as an invincible misfortune, and not inferior to him either in birth or fortune. imputing it to her exquisite beauty. La PraValfontaine, therefore, took the first opportu- tiere was for some time in too much confusion nity of declaring his passion to this rich to stop him in this offensive discourse, but at heiress, and was by the young lady referred length interrupted him "Sir, to have offered to her father. It is needless, perhaps, to men- this unkindness to a friend would have been tion, that La Pratiere herself was friendly treacherous and ignoble in the extreme; but to his addresses. M. de Peunelle, the father I know not what to term it when the object of the young lady, entertained Valfontaine very of this perfidy is your own brother. I have courteously for two or three days, but when only to add, that your insanity, for such, Sir, the young man mentioned his business, replied I must term it, has totally overpowered me, that he had other views for his daughter. The || and I would sooner be in my tomb than conmatter of fact was, that Valfontaine was merely nect myself with one so destitute of all boa younger brother, and therefore did not an- nourable feeling." swer the wishes of De Pennelle.

Upon Vaifontaine's return to his father's house at Vannes, he acknowledged his love for La Pratiere, and solicited his interposition with her father. Both of his parents approved of his choice, but did not deem it consistent with their rank to descend to solicitation. They declined, therefore this office. Valfentaine next applied to his brother Quattresson, and intreated him to make a journey to Nautz, and become his advocate with M. de Pennelle. Quattresson readily yielded to his brother's request; and his father so far seconded the purpose of his visit, as to give him a letter to De Pennelle, expressive of his consent to the union of their families.

Quatresson arrived at Nantz a short time before the family were going to their dinner. He delivered his father's letter, and was introduced by De Pennelle to his daughter. Her exquisite beauty produced a fatal impression on him. In a moment he forgot his brother, and resolved to supplant him.

Under some pretext La Praticre accompa nied him into the garden, probably because she expected that he had some letter from her lover. Quattresson very eagerly accompanied her. After a pause of a few minutes, taking her hand:-“I have something most important to communicate to you, but you must swear to be secret. It intimately concerus your future welfare, but I cannot communicate it to you on any other condition than that you pledge yourself by your honour aud salvation to secrecy."

La Pratiere, wondering at the strange nature of this request, for some moments stood

Quattresson, being not merely half a villain, resolved not to be repulsed in this manner; he accordingly made a polite bow to the lady, and without farther ceremony proposed himself at once to her father. He was encouraged to this, perhaps, by having learned the old gentleman's character from his brother. His expectation was not disappointed; Pennelle embraced the offer; desired Quattresson to leave every thing to his management, and promised him eventual success. Under this persuasion Quattresson took his leave, and returned to his brother, to whom he gave some false account of the state of things at Pennelle's, advising him to think no more of La Pratiere, as her father was decidedly against his proposals.

By some means or other, most probably by the communication of La Pratiere, Valfontaine soon learned the perfidy of his brother, and openly taxed him with it. Quattresson, denying it with his tongue, confessed it with his countenance. Valfontaine, however, fully satisfied of the honour and love of his mistress, and perhaps deeming her beauty a strong excuse, contented himself with the mere reproof of his brother, and thereafter thought no more of the subject.

Not so Quattresson; he hated his brother as a successful rival; he now hated him doubly, as one who had detected him in an act of infamy. La Pratiere, moreover, was still immoveable. In this state of things he turned his whole mind to revenge. This pur. pose was still further confirmed by the union of La Pratiere with his brother, De Penuelle having at length given his consent.

As soon as he had resolved on the crime he resolved on the means. One of his most dissolute companions was a young apothecary who attended his family. This young man was as poor as he was profligate. Quaitresson proposed to him to poison bis brother, offering him a large reward. The villainous apothecary after some reluctance agreed to the proposal.

An opportunity was not long wanting to persons so determined on crimes. Valfontaine, about six weeks after his inarriage, finding his body in an extreme heat, and his pulse in violent motion, sent for his apothecary, who having opened a vein iu the morning, administered to him at night a composing draught in which was infused the deadly poison; Valfontain sunk under its operation before morning His wife and father were sorrowful in the extreme for the loss of their sou and husband; Quattresson likewise assumed a melancholy countenance, and to all but the all seeing eyes of God, seemed to lament the loss of his brother.

Three months were scarsely passed over after this atrocious murder, before Quattresson renewed his suit to La Pratiere, his widowed sister-in-law. She had already some suspicion that Valfontaine had died by the hands of his brother, and these proceedings confirmed her in that notion. Silently praying to the AI. mighty God to bring about justice, in his own due time, she contented herself with a sharp rebuke, and most absolute and decided refusal to listen to his conversation. Quattresson still continuing his offensive addresses, La Pratiere at length withdrew from the house of her father-in-law, and sought refuge in that of ber father. Her beauty and fortune soon procured her other admirers; and after a year's mourning she gave her hand to an honourable and virtuous gentleman of the name of Pont Chausey. Quattresson now vowed that his revenge should equal his former love; he accordingly avoided the sight of her as of a noxious animal, and to extinguish the memory of his passion, gave himself up to all kinds of profligacy.

Quattresson hearing that a poor peasant, of the parish of St. Andrew, about three miles from Vannes, had a beautiful daughter, resolved to see her and to make her the object of his seduction. He coutrived to call at her father's cottage in one of his hunting excursions. He saw Marietta,-saw that her beauty exceeded her reputation, and he resolved instantly to make her his prey. Marietta was only sixteen years of age, and vanity and her No. XV. Vol. III.-N. S.

"

mean condition very powerfully seconded the advances of Quattresson.

To make short of this part of our narrative, Qualtresson succeeded with the young and thoughtless Marietta to the full extent of his criminal desires; but as the father and mother of Marietta, though poor, were honest, it became necessary to remove her from their humble roof. Quattresson agaiu succeeded in persuading her to elope, and concealed her in a cottage of one of his father's vassals, about ten or twelve miles from Vaunes.

Quattresson, having now satisfied one brutal passion, returned to another. His revenge against La Pratiere arose in double violence. He again sent for his former instrument, the ruffian apothecary, who had assisted him to poison his brother. The villain agreed to the proposal as soon as it was made. waited only for the opportunity. of Providence brought it about they had any reason to expect. La Pratiere becoming indisposed, Moncalier was called in to administer to her.

They now The justice sooner than

He advised that some composing draught should be given to her, and left her chamber with the purpose of making up this draught and infusing into it a deadly but gradual poison. The vengeance of God, however, overtook him before the accomplishment of his murderous intention. He had just left the chamber door, and was in the act of bowing to the husband, who attended him on the staircase, when the bannisters being low and dark, and raising up too suddenly, he fell backwards over them. The stairs were like those in old houses, very deep, and in the shape of a well downwards; he accordingly fell to the bottom, and without having time to recommend his soul to his Maker, and to ask even momentarily a pardon of Heaven, broke his neck, and expired-an awful example of the divine vengeance, and of the death of the wicked.

One would have thought that such a calamitous accident would have awakened the terror of Quattresson. Not at all; it had no such effect. On the contrary, he rejoiced in it, as an incident which put him into additional security, by removing the witness and accomplice of his former crimes. Poor deluded wretch! as if the all-seeing eye of Heaven was not upon him, and as if Heaven wanted other means to accomplish its justice. His cup was not yet full; the bolt, however, was heating, and he soon received it on his head.

Quattresson now returned to his debauch eries, and very soon became satiated with the charins of Marietta. He now began to find E

Quattresson accordingly, a few days afterwards, opened his purpose to the miller; pro-finished, he mustered up courage enough to mised a reward, and implored him to do the business quickly and secretly. The miller, wicked as had been the former course of his life, hesitated at murder; Quattresson doubled his reward. The miller still hesitated, and proposed that for the same reward he would marry Marietta, and thus take the child upon himself.