little can we read of the secrets of the heart! How selfish and blind are we, even in our love!

If Lord Rutherford had been asked whether he had succeeded in rendering his daughter happy, he would have answered, without a moment's hesitation, perfectly. She had employments, amusements, interests, luxuries, friends; and, to crown the whole, himself: and though free from the petty conceit of an inferior intellect, which believes that it is all which it desires to be, Lord Rutherford could not but be conscious that the powers of entertainment which had excited the admiration of the first circles, both in England and on the continent, must be more than equal to the task of whiling away the leisure hours of a young girl, whose knowledge of the world was confined to the immediate neighbourhood of the place of her education. And he thought correctly. Blanche was amused, excited, interested still-but the arrow had entered into her heart; and when she left her father's presence, her smiles too often vanished, whilst she sought the solitude of her own chamber, to grieve over the bitterness of her disappointment.

It was then that she most thought of her mother. Had it been the same with her? Had she also loved, and reverenced, and dreamt a dream of perfection; and awoke to find it but delusion? Or had she, like the earl, been gifted with the highest of earthly gifts, while destitute of that "pearl of great price, ," which alone could be her ornament in Heaven? This, Blanche could not think. All that she heard and saw-the letters, the favourite books, the kind acts which were so thankfully remembered, showed plainly that the Countess of Rutherford had been in her inmost heart a Christian; and then, how great must have been the pang at finding herself united to one whose heart was centred in the world!

Blanche thought upon the subject till it haunted her as a spectral form, mixing with her imaginations by day and night; and, if forgotten for a time, recalled by some accidental occurrence as painfully as if it had never passed away. Yet the fear could not be named,―certainly not to Eleanor, and scarcely even to Mrs. Howard, who had been much separated from the countess both before and after her marriage, and had never hinted a doubt of her happiness. The mention of it would have involved an acknowledgment of disappointment in her father, which Blanche shrank from allowing to herself, and could not have borne to embody in words; though she often reproached herself for a want of sincerity in withholding the confidence which she knew was expected. There was one person, indeed, from whom much might be learnt; but how was the inquiry to be made? Mrs. Wentworth, she had reason to believe, knew all the circumstances of her mother's history; but Blanche had already asked all the questions which she dared, and had learnt the principal events, and many additional traits of habit and character; and Mrs. Wentworth was not a person from whom to seek further confidence. There was a great deal of sincerity, but no openness in her disposition she seldom encouraged conversation, and when she did, it was confined to facts,—serious and important, and often placed in a new and striking light, but still merely facts. Her own feelings she left to be discovered by inference; and Blanche, accustomed to Mrs. Howard's warmth of expression, felt chilled even by her kindness, and would frequently have preferred silence to a succession of details, which might have aroused the intensest interest, but for the cold way in which they were narrated. There was one hope, however, still to rest upon; Lady Charlton was described by every one to be a

most charming person, something like the countess in appearance, and with a manner so winning that no one could withstand it. Even Mrs. Wentworth had once been roused into a momentary enthusiasm when speaking of her qualifications as an agreeable companion, and Blanche already clung to the idea, that in her aunt she might find a friend who would throw light upon the subject which distressed her mind, without requiring her to state the fears which she would willingly have hidden from her own heart.

CHAPTER X.

He

LORD RUTHERFORD perceived, with great satisfaction, the pleasure with which Blanche looked forward to her aunt's visit. He had resolved that his sister-inlaw should be surprised and charmed by his daughter's elegance and beauty; and he well knew the effect which Blanche's simple, eager cordiality would have upon one who had so long been accustomed to the sparkling frigidity of the fashionable world. Blanche was always courteous, always attentive; but, when her feelings were interested, she was attractive far beyond any person whom he had ever seen. remained at home the whole of the day on which Lady Charlton was expected, under the pretenceperhaps even the belief-that it would be a great mark of neglect if he were to run the least risk of not being ready to receive his guests. "Sir Hugh was so unwell, and they had not met since they parted last year in Italy; and Blanche would feel awkward in probably having to receive her cousins alone. True, they could not possibly arrive before five o'clock, and he had an engagement, at two, in a neighbouring village; but there might be some mistake; they might come before, at any rate it was safe, and he would send an excuse; and then the earl's eye wandered to Blanche, who was seated at her drawing-frame, and he begged her to give him one air upon the harphis favourite. Blanche's face lit up with a smile of pleasure,—and the earl felt the time only too short, as he leant back upon the sofa, his eye delighting in his child's grace, and his ear drinking in the sweet

sounds which her talent was producing. It was perfect human enjoyment; for at that moment no memories awoke to mar it.

"We will walk down the carriage drive, if you like it, my love," he said, as the timepiece struck the quarter before five: "these spare minutes are always very tedious."

Blanche disappeared as soon as the suggestion was made; her father's marked attention to her wishes, had made her scrupulously mindful of his. Lord Rutherford's careful inspection when she returned, was not perceived; but it was bestowed with the wish to decide whether she would be less likely to appear to advantage in her walking than in her morning dress. Lady Charlton's eye was fastidiously correct in dress, and it was possible that she might be struck by some deficiency of which Blanche was unconscious. But the straw bonnet and shawl disarmed criticism, and Lord Rutherford smiled at his own doubts. The afternoon was very still, but the atmosphere was clear, and the sky blue and cloudless. Blanche felt the softening, soothing influence of nature's purity and beauty; and the over interest, and even agitation, which she had experienced in the expectation of the meeting, were calmed. But she was silent, and so was the earl.

"We shall see them from this point," he said, at length, as he led his daughter to a bench upon the summit of a steep knoll. "It was an old boyish habit of mine, to stand here and watch for arrivals."

Blanche looked towards the winding road which passed over the village green. "There is something, a carriage;-yes, a carriage, I am sure. Don't you see it, papa?"

Eyes of sixteen against eyes of fifty, Blanche," said the earl, smiling. "Are you certain that you don't hear the rumbling of the wheels?"