Harrison and the Miss Harrisons were announced. After the buzz of dear Maria's and dear Kate's was over, Mrs. Beaumont began upon the subject nearest her heart.

"How is your mother, to-day, Kate? We were just going to inquire after her, for we were afraid, as we did not see any of you last night, that something must be the matter at home."

"Last night!" repeated Kate, "I forget what there was, last night. Oh! I remember-one of those large Mordaunt parties. I hate them; do not you? Lady Ellen says, they always give one or two of them in the year, just to clear off her visiting list, and they are a sad mixture. However, next Wednesday we shall go, and I hope have the pleasure of meeting you. There is very small,' and very early,' at the corner of the cards this time; so it will be select and good." This was a dreadful blow. The Beaumonts had no card, and in their lives never had had one, with "small and early” at the corner; and Mrs. Beaumont, feeling herself fairly defeated, made a hasty attempt to change the subject; but Julia Harrison took it up, and pertinaciously pursued it.

"We shall meet you, of course. I would not miss going for the world, it will be so very interesting.'

"And why should it be so very interesting?" asked Mrs. Beaumont, jesuitically avoiding to notice the first part of

the sentence.

"Why! is it possible?" exclaimed Kate, "that you have not heard of the marriage? John! only think, they have not heard of the marriage! Well, I wonder that Lady Ellen did not tell you. Mamma and I are going there to congratulate. So very extraordinary that she should not have let you know about it. You will be so surprised."

The Beaumonts had nothing left for it but to look dignified and uninterested. Eliza, indeed, hazarded something about Frederick Percival and Lady Ellen, but was immediately silenced by

“Oh, no, not that old story! I do not believe there is any thing in that. Well, I suppose we must tell you. Lord Lindsay is going to be married to Miss Spencer, Lord Raymond's sister. It was all settled at Paris, and both the families are delighted. Lord Lindsay is on his way hence, with old Lady Raymond and his fiancée; and I suppose we shall see them together next Wednesday. You will be sure to go, will not you?" added Julia, who was dying to know whether they were asked.

VOL. 1.-2

"And is it positively settled and declared?" asked Eliza, with something of a pang: for though Lord Lindsay had never seemed to perceive her existence, he was unmarried and a neighbor, and did to dream about when she was in the country.

"To be sure it is," said John Harrison. "I had this morning a letter from Lindsay-(Maria pressed Eliza's foot under the table)and you can give me, for your authority, that the marriage is settled."

This was a bold stroke of John's; for the letter simply related to a horse-dealing transaction, and was written in a dry business-like manner, without the slightest allusion to the marriage-which he had accidentally heard the night before at the Travellers. For, like all family mysteries, it had been talked over, commented upon in every possible view of the subject, any where, and every where, but at Mordaunt House. Indeed, so positive had been Lord Lindsay's injunctions of secrecy, till he had received a propitious answer from some rich uncle or cousin of his intended bride, it was only that morning Lord Mordaunt had felt himself at liberty to mention the fact to Ellen; and Charles Dalrymple was, at that very moment, fretting up and down Elizabeth's drawing-room, in a positive fever of offended dignity. A note had arrived from her mother, full of congratulations upon an event, of which she naturally concluded he and Elizabeth would have had the earliest information. He was really distressed how to answer her. How could he own, situated as he was in the family, that no communication had been sent? It showed a want of confidence in Lord Mordaunt, a want of consideration in Ellen that was quite unpardonable. What would Elizabeth advise him to answer? Under the circumstances, would it not be

better to deny the whole affair?

But as there seemed to be no doubt of the truth of the report, Elizabeth, over whom her husband's fusses always had a calming effect, said his mother would probably not believe him.

"True, he had never thought of that. He was really placed in a most extraordinary position;"-and his small peevish mouth actually quivered with agitation.

"Had we not better walk to Grosvenor-square," suggested Elizabeth," and see my father? and you can send word to your mother, that we will call upon her in our way back."

After some demur as to whether, under the circumstances of the case, he could take such a step without degradation, he consented, and was somewhat mollified upon finding Ellen actually

employed in writing to Elizabeth and hearing her reiterated assurances, that she had herself been only an hour in possession of the intelligence. After suggesting to her the expedience of an early official communication to his mother, he announced his intention of proceeding to her himself a proposition which was eagerly seconded by Elizabeth; and the two sisters were left to talk the matter over in peace.

"And papa, Ellen-what does he say to this marriage of Lindsay's? does it satisfy him?"

"Yes, I believe so; he likes the connection, and all we hear of Mary Spencer is very satisfactory. But you know how papa considers Lindsay. I really believe the person does not exist upon the earth, whom papa would think good enough for him; and he would certainly prefer the lady's having a little more money. But I have done my best to comfort him about that; for though we talk so pathetically of our poverty, I suspect that it is only talk. My uncle, who knows all about papa's affairs, says, that it is a fancy of Lindsay's, and that it is a pity he wearies papa about nothing."

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I believe," answered Elizabeth," that Lindsay was frightened, and with some reason, at Edward's extravagance. His debts have been twice paid already; and Lindsay was of opinion that it would have been more prudent, and in fact, kinder to Edward, to have let him suffer a little for his follies, instead of encouraging him to persevere in them."

"There was no encouragement! If you knew all, Elizabeth, you would not say so. Edward was extravagant-I neither deny it, nor defend it; but if Lindsay did but know, as I do, how much kindness can do with Edward, he would not risk driving him, by severity, from all those who can influence him to good. Dear, dear papa! how thankful I felt to him, that he withstood all the unkind influence that was used. And Edward-even you, Elizabeth, will own, that you have heard no reports of his extravagance since."

"Not of his extravagance!" answered Elizabeth, with one of her meaning smiles, which made Ellen feel uncomfortable, she could scarcely have said why; but she resolutely refrained from asking any question; and Elizabeth, after pausing for encouragement, continued without it—

"Are not the Howards new acquaintances of yours? Mrs. Howard once made strong efforts to draw me into an intimacy; but, from the very first, I made a point of repelling her advances. I had not the vanity to suppose that she was actuated by the simple wish of enjoying my society; she is too

pretty, and too much used to be told so, to content herself with that. You are probably aware, that Edward almost passes his life at her home; and Mr. Dalrymple tells us that he hears at Boodle's-"

"If you are going to repeat to me any ill-natured reports about Edward, spare me, Elizabeth!" interrupted Ellen, with a spirit she always showed when he was attacked; "though as the reports Mr. Dalrymple picks up at Boodle's are probably about some of our ancestors, I do not know why I should mind. And now will not you come down to papa? he will expect you to wish him joy.".

CHAPTER III.

Lord Angelo is precise;

Stands at a guard with envy, scarce confesscs
That his blood flows, or that his appetite

Is more to bread than stone.-Measure for Measure.

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'Say, is this love, or only phantasy?"

EVEN the most intimate friends and associates of the Glanville family, though habitually thrown into the society of Lord Lindsay, felt his presence always chill them, as that of a stranger. He had certainly great natural talents, and his mind was highly cultivated; but either from pride or shyness, he spoke but little-he seemed determined to keep even his knowledge to himself. Cold, stern, and unimpassioned, both in actions and in manner, whatever sins Lord Lindsay may have committed, whatever pain inflicted by his words, he was at least spared the possibility of reproaching himself with rashness, or momentary inadvertence; for all was the result of previous calculation. No event, however unforseen, no appeal, however energetic, could draw him from the line of conduct he had determined to pursue. However difficult it might be to understand his character from cursory observation, it became clear to those who studied it, that selfishness, unrestrained, hardened selfishness, had blighted, and eventually destroyed, all that might have been noble and good.

Over his father his influence was unbounded. Years had reversed the relative positions of father and son: for aged and

feeble himself, Lord Mordaunt, in any difficulty or uncertainty, gladly availed himself of the cool judgment and decision of one who, whatever his faults, had never failed in duty towards him. Edward, too, however unlike him in disposition, was proud of his brother, though but little of intimacy subsisted between them. Lord Lindsay was at college, when Edward first left his home for school. At fifteen he had joined his regiment; and when, in after life, they occasionally met at their father's house, Lord Lindsay's unbending manner did not encourage confidence. Yet in Edward's wildest moments, (and in those days he was wild with youth and spirits, and ungovernable happiness,) one word of advice or blame from his brother would calm and check him. But that word was seldom spoken: it might bring on scenes and explanations, of which Lord Lindsay had an insupportable horror: it was only by the cold sarcasm of his manner that he ever signified his displeasure.

Yes, Edward was wild, extravagant, and impetuous. He had many faults which, in early life, a mother's watchfulness, a mother's influence, might have eradicated; but she died shortly after Ellen's birth; and Edward, without one fixed principle to guide him, was early thrown into a life of temptation and excitement. Those who remembered him, when, after three years absence, he first returned to Mordaunt Castle, so frank and affectionate in manner, so quick and brilliant in conversation, thought they had never before met with one so formed to attract and delight; and when this opinion of him was openly and warmly expressed

"True," answered old Lord Mordaunt, "he is a handsome, affectionate boy; but to a younger son, who must trust for advancement in life to his own steadiness, are not the shining qualities you admire, a misfortune rather than an advantage?" The question might seem a harsh one; but "time gave it a deep answer."

Meanwhile, there was one who could see no fault in Edward; who could listen to no foreboding of future ill to him. Child as he was, Ellen was the constant companion of his 'amusements; the confidant of all his early troubles. He would go with her to coax her old French governess into giving her holiday after holiday, that they might set off for the day, on some far expedition together; and the old lady, who doated upon ce cher jeune Capitaine Edouard," would shake her head and try to look grave, and wish that milédi Ellen would be as studious and posée as milédi Elizabeth; and then she

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