bottle, and she shot off in that direction,--when the hum of the gnat
again diverted her; and in the middle of this perplexity, pounce came a
young wasp in a violent passion! Then the spider evidently lost her
presence of mind; she became clean demented; and after standing, stupid
and stock-still, in the middle of her meshes for a minute or two, she
ran off to her hole as fast as she could run, and left her guests to
shift for themselves. I confess that I am somewhat in the dilemma of
the attractive and amiable insect I have just described. I got on well
enough while I had only my domestic fly to see after. But now that
there is something fluttering at every end of my net (and especially
since the advent of that passionate young wasp, who is fuming and
buzzing in the nearest corner), I am fairly at a loss which I should
first grapple with; and alas! unlike the spider, I have no hole where I
can hide myself, and let the web do the weaver's work. But I will
imitate the spider as far as I can; and while the rest hum and struggle
away their impatient, unnoticed hour, I will retreat into the inner
labyrinth of my own life.

The illness of my uncle and my renewed acquaintance with Vivian had
naturally sufficed to draw my thoughts from the rash and unpropitious
love I had conceived for Fanny Trevanion. During the absence of the
family from London (and they stayed some time longer than had been
expected), I had leisure, however, to recall my father's touching
history, and the moral it had so obviously preached to me; and I formed
so many good resolutions that it was with an untrembling hand that I
welcomed Miss Trevanion at last to London, and with a firm heart that I
avoided, as much as possible, the fatal charm of her society. The slow
convalescence of my uncle gave me a just excuse to discontinue our
rides. What time Trevanion spared me, it was natural that I should
spend with my family. I went to no balls nor parties; I even absented