alarm; "but we are going straight from here. I saw some of the family this morning, and understood they were coming here; but perhaps they were expecting Lady Ellen there. Good morning, Captain Glanville; we will not keep you standing at the open window. Pray offer our good wishes to Lord Mordaunt. John, drive to Mrs. Harrison's. Eliza, I wish you would lean back quietly, like your sisters-you have bent my bonnet by poking forwards so." "Mamma, I was only answering Captain Glanville; he had evidently a great deal more he wanted to say to me, if we had not driven away in such a hurry." 66 "And, mamma," added Maria; " I think it a mistake to follow Lady Ellen to the Harrisons. They will be so pleased, that we should find her sitting there "Nonsense, my dear-the Harrisons called upon us last; I should have gone there to-day at all events, and Lady Ellen may not be there after all. What a very selfish young man Mr. Glanville must be, to speculate upon his poor brother's death, and to wish him not to marry.' 99 "Mamma al "That was a joke, mamma," said Eliza. ways will take things in such a matter-of-fact way,"-she whispered to Anne, who only answered by a silent shrug of her shoulders. She was the youngest of the three, and but just come out; and when her eldest sisters were present, seldom committed herself by uttering an opinion. "Now that's what I call cleverly done of me," said Edward, after watching them till they were out of sight; “ and at no decided expense of truth-an economy seldom met with in this precious world we live in, and praiseworthy in a person given to what is called wanton expenditure. Do not look grave, Ellen; I am a model of prudence now. These very gloves I am now drawing on, I paid ready money for this morning; and no such thing as a single knock is ever heard at my door" He was interrupted by Percival, who, as he took leave, said something of returning in the evening, if the house should be up in time, to inquire after Ellen. Edward promised to come back to dinner, and looked at his sister, as if he expected her to second his invitation to Lord Raymond to join them; but she was silent, and with only one serious parting look he too left her. CHAPTER V. Suspicion, entering with a serpent's fang, Look on her, mark her well-be but about The justice of your hearts will thereto add— 'Tis pity she's not honest-honorable.—WINTER'S TALE. THREE mornings passed without any farther tidings from Lindsay; the fourth brought a letter, announcing his arrival for the following day. The concluding sentence delighted Edward; it related entirely to Miss Spencer-her beauty-her singular attractions, and the great advantage that Ellen would derive from the society of such a companion. It was altogether a very lover-like sentence. Edward thought that he could trace a proper degree of exaggeration, both in sentiments and expressions;-with all his practice, he had seldom run off any thing better himself; he had now well-founded hopes of seeing Lindsay really and servilely in love. He and Ellen were dawdling over the luncheon table, in momentary dread of the appearance of Charles Dalrymple, who was inflicting a dutiful visit upon poor Lord Mordaunt, when Elizabeth walked into the room, unaccompanied by her husband. "My dear Elizabeth," said Ellen, "have you been down stairs with papa? they only told me that Mr. Dalrymple was with him, or I should have joined you long ago." "Mr. Dalrymple was there," said Elizabeth; "but I could not persuade him to come up to you. Hearing, Edward, that you were in the house, he expected that you might perhaps take the trouble to walk down stairs to see him: that you should walk the length of three streets, is an honor we have long ceased to hope for." 66 Now, Elizabeth, this is very unfair. I spend all my idle moments at your door; but your man has a spite against mehe will not let me in, and he will not mention my visits. I have long looked upon myself as a very ill-used man, that Dalrymple should have returned so few of them-for I am very punctilious about these small matters myself." 66 Very," said Ellen, laughing. The world belies you much, if it is at my door your idle moments are spent," pursued Elizabeth. "I have heard that there is one in Park Lane, through which you do not find it so difficult to make an entrance." "What! at my little friend, Mrs. Howard's? Yes, I do go there most days-I confess to that. She is a very nice pretty little woman; with her black sparkling eyes, and white glit tering teeth, and I am glad you happened to mention her. It reminds me that I meant to ask you to leave a card upon her. It would be very well taken, for she knows very few people in London." Having given Elizabeth this encouraging assurance, Edward coolly resumed his occupation, of swallowing plovers' eggs. "Thank you," said Elizabeth indignantly; "but I have not the smallest inclination to find myself a component part of the Howard set. I was astonished to see them here the other night. After all, who are the Howards? and why are we all to be forced into an acquaintance with them?" "Who are the Howards! Faith you puzzle me now," said Edward. 66 Ellen, dear, put these things out of my reach: I cannot stop eating them. Who are the Howards? that is such a difficult question. Who is any body? Who are the Glanvilles? Who are the Dalrymples, but just their ownselves? They must have had fathers and mothers like other people, I suppose. Every body must be somebody. As to forcing you into an acquaintance with them, Elizabeth, I assure you I have no plot of that kind; but I thought that you would find her an acquisition at your dinner parties; she is pleasant and lively, and would help them off amazingly." "And are you to run up an intimacy with these people, Ellen!" said Elizabeth, not deigning to answer him. “Am I, Edward?" said Ellen. "That will depend entirely upon yourself. I half promised to take you to see them some morning, and came here now to ask you to walk there with me. They were so kind to me, when I was quartered at I, I am anxious to show them some civility. Have you any objection to go with me?" Ellen looked timidly at Elizabeth, who resolutely kept silence; but there was an expression of cold irony on her countenance, which was any thing but encouraging. "My dear Ellen," Edward added, half impatiently-" if there were any reason against your making their acquaintance, can you imagine I should propose taking you there?" Ellen immediately left the room to prepare for the walk; and Edward, launching out upon another subject, contrived to keep the conversation till the servant announced the arrival of Elizabeth's carriage, into which, with much civility, and more satisfaction, he handed her, and saw her drive off. Ellen joined him, looking so fresh-so brilliant-it was with a feeling of natural pride that he drew her arm through his. He enjoyed the evident admiration she excited, when they walked together; and she was neither ignorant of, nor unelated by it. It is all nonsense to talk of the unconsciousness of admiration: no beautiful woman is, or can be unconscious of it: none but a cold woman can be indifferent to it. There must be something satisfactory to her in finding that the first impression she makes upon her fellow creatures is a pleasing onethat she has only to cultivate favorable prepossessions-not to fight her way against coldness or prejudice. Some plodding people, in unwonted moments of enthusiasın, have found themselves wishing that heaven had made them great politicians, or great heroes, or great orators. I should have been content had heaven made me a great beauty: and I would have ruled politicians, and heroes, and orators too. Now Elizabeth was gone, Edward's fit of reserve vanished and he at once began to talk to Ellen of the origin of his intimacy with the Howards. When upon a visit to them some months before, he had been confined to his room from illness -the consequence of a neglected fall, while hunting. Had he been at home, he could not have been nursed with greater kindness. The visit, which was to have lasted a few days, was necessarily prolonged for as many weeks. Their house was within a short distance of the town where his regiment was quartered; and when upon his recovery he rejoined it, a visit to Howard Lodge was a constant resource to him in his daily rides. He did not know what absurd notions Elizabeth had got in her head about Mrs. Howard. She was a very good little woman-doating upon her husband, who was a virtuous bore; and upon her children, who were little unfledged monsters. At first he was afraid she was too domestic for him to endure; but he found that the cares of a family had failed to crush her natural gaiety and cleverness. She would fearlessly tell him of his faults, and laugh at his follies-and ridicule his over-refinements; and from her he bore this well. He was amused by her originality, and grateful for the interest she evidently felt for him. She had never lived in that artifi cial world of fashion, where the opinions of the few govern despotically those of the many. In the beginning of their acquaintance, she puzzled Edward by meeting his frequently repeated assertions-" Everybody thinks this"-" Everybody does that"-by the simple questions, "But what do you think? Why should you do as they do?" He grew ashamed of answering that he had adopted the ready-made opinions-that he had followed the path chalked out for him by others. While he was at Howard Lodge, he actually learned to think and act for himself. "And Miss Rivers?" Ellen asked. "Harriet Rivers was not there. I never saw her till the other day," was the only answer she received; but the tone of his voice was constrained. Ellen's next question was unheard, and he fell into a state of abstraction-which, following her usual rule, of waiting for confidence, not pressing for it, she did not interrupt, till they arrived at the Howards' door. They were instantly admitted, and Elizabeth would have trembled, could she have witnessed the air of pleasure and alacrity with which the very servant preceded Edward to the drawing room, and how the black eyes of the lady sitting there sparkled at their approach. "There—that will do--go, dears-go!" said Mrs. Howard turning her children out at one door, as her visitors entered at the other. "Now Richard's himself again.' What a relief-just as I was to set in for a hard morning's work at their infant minds." Ellen said something civil about wishing to be allowed a sight of them. "No, Lady Ellen-you are very kind-but I will not inflict so great a punishment upon us both, as to call them back. I hope that I am not an unnatural mother; but I own I do think that when visitors-especially pleasant visitors—are in my room, children, even my own children, are better out of it. Little chattering torments! drowning all one's best remarks, and listening to all they are not meant to hear. I remember my own childhood and the childhood of all my small contemporariesnow grown up into valuable members of society like myself. We lived among nurses and nursery-maids-wore muslin spencers--ate nothing for dinner but shoulders of mutton—and once a year, for a treat, were taken out in the carriage. Now children talk, dress, feed, visit like little men and women. We all served a long apprenticeship before we were admitted to the |