THE MAIDEN AUNT. laid your misanthropy last night to the account of your fatiguing journey, but I begin to be afraid that it is inherent. 66 invitations, how inexplicable soever they may be. She proceeded-'I am afraid there was a mistake about the note I sent you; I am afraid it was left at "Yes," he replied, "I was born with a cold the wrong house. But I felt justified by my intiheart and a sour temper, and I am glad of it. It macy with your lovely sister- Miss Kinnaird, I saves a world of trouble. All those sentiments beg your pardon, I forgot you were in the room. which you will have to learn by a tedious and af- The unknown continued to talk about you for some flictive process, which I won't pain you by describ-time. To be sure,' she justly observed,' that girl ising, come to me naturally." 66 They are not sentiments at all," cried Edith. "Don't degrade the word by such an application." "What "Give them a name, then," said he. shall I call them?" "How can you be so absurd ?" cried Edith, "Oh, he'll never tell you!" said Kinnaird. "You may call them prejudices and mistakes, if you please," answered Miss Kinnaird smiling; "I dare not, you see, because I have not known you" When he is in this humor there's no getting a long enough." I interrupted the combatants by introducing Captain Everard to Mrs. Alvanley. After the usual civilities had been exchanged, he said, addressing himself to me," I have had an adventure this morning, and I am eager to tell it." "Indeed!" cried I, " pray indulge yourself. We are all anxious to hear." "We were alone in the drawing-room at Acton cottage," he began. "I was studying; Kinnaird was smoking a cigar." "I!" cried Frank indignantly, "I was not doing anything of the sort. And as to your studies—" "My dear fellow!" interrupted Everard," these little graphic touches give life to my narration. If you were not smoking a cigar, you might have been; and so there is no harm in handing you down to posterity as having been actually so engaged at A thundering a given time. But let me go on. knock at the door disturbed us-we foreboded visitors; and Frank, who is apt to indulge in a few graceful ad libitum variations of costume during a morning at home, was forced to beat a hasty retreat." "This is the most unfair mode of telling a story that I ever heard," interposed Kinnaird. word of sense out of him. It was Lady Vaughan. You know they have property in this neighborhood, and young Lord Vaughan came of age two months ago, and is come down with his mother to winter here. I expect they will be uncommonly pleasant neighbors." "Lady Vaughan!" repeated Edith, her color deepening as she spoke; "oh, I know her very well. I spent five weeks in the same house with her last midsummer, and she was very kind to me. I a.n glad they are here." "Was Lord Vaughan of the party also?" inquired Captain Everard quietly. 66 "Yes!" replied Edith, looking down; "they were both there." "Lord Vaughan is an extremely good fellow," | said Frank. "I saw a good deal of him at Weymouth last autumn, and I liked him very much. They will be great acquisitions. They are coming to call here to-day, Miss Forde," added he, turning to me," as they are most anxious to bespeak you and Edith for this ball of theirs next Thursday. And Lady Vaughan begged me to break the ice for her, and induce you to excuse such short notice; it was only the day before yesterday that she knew we were all coming here." I said nothing of the three weeks which I had passed at Enmore without receiving a visit from Lady Vaughan, who unfortunately had not suspected that the beautiful heiress, whose acquaintance she was so anxious to cultivate, could be coming to reside with a person so unimportant as myself; but I made haste to answer the eager inquiry in Edith's eyes by saying that I should certainly accept the invitation. "You shall set it all right when I have done," said his friend; "you shall supply a commentary, like the notes to a ghost story, in which the editor takes pains to let his readers know that he is not such a fool as to believe what he is telling, though his teeth chatter, and his hair stands on end, all the while. Well, my teeth chattered I assure you; no ghost could have been so awful as the apparition which followed that knock at the door, and came A lady, "How good of you!" cried Mrs. Alvanley; upon me, deserted and solitary as I was. you who hate gayety, and go so little into socieenveloped in a perfect haze of gauzes and laces, and " the like unsubstantial investments, glided into the ty! Remember, dear Miss Forde, whenever you. room, and addressed me with a degree of warmth find the duties of a chaperon at all too much for that would have overcome a man less acquainted you, I shall be most happy to relieve you." with the amiable impressibility of the sex than myself." Mrs. Alvanley, Miss Kinnaird, and I, all exclaimed at this, and insisted on his retracting before he could be allowed to proceed. they are not "Well, then, I recant," cried he;" generally impressible. It is only where I am concerned. Now, don't interrupt me again, pray. You shall be allowed your commentary, as well as Kinnaird, when I have finished. This fair lady addressed me as follows. I shall try to give you her exact words: You will excuse this unceremonious visit; but I am so very anxious to make your acquaintance, that I resolved to dispense with etiquette, and come in person to secure you for my party on Thursday evening.' I bowed, and said I I always accept should be very happy to come. 8 VOL. XV. CLXXIX. LIVING AGE. I knew that Mrs. Alvanley would have given her ears to have obtained the entrée into Lady Vaughan's house, so I took the self-sacrificing offer for just as much as it was worth, and replied coolly that I had always contemplated accompanying Miss Kinnaird into such society as Alford could afford her, and that I rejoiced for her sake in having to begin the duties of a chaperon so early and so auspiciously. We were interrupted here by the announcement of the very persons who formed the subject of our conversation; namely Lord and Lady-or, as I suppose I ought to say in the present case-Lady and Lord Vaughan. Lady Vaughan was a lively, elegant woman, still on the sunny side of fifty, with easy manners, and an abundance of small talk. She contrived to keep "Nay," interposed I; "you must not deal so strictly with mere conversational expressions. Moreover, I think that a man's merits ought to be judged according to his temptations; and you will allow, that, to a young man entering life under Lord Vaughan's circumstances, temptations are neither few nor trivial." the two young men, Mrs. Alvanley, and myself, | idea; only you are running him up so confoundedly, thoroughly engaged in conversation with her; while that it makes a man look about to discover what he her son devoted himself to Miss Kinnaird in that has done. The highest character, possible,' simdirect, immediate, and business-like manner, which ply means that this promising youth of twenty-one marks the flirtations of some men, and which seems is neither a gamester nor a drunkard; at least, I to say, "I came here solely for the purpose of see- believe that is the plain English of the phrase." ing you, and I mean to make the most of my time." This kind of wooing leaves no room for the timid flutter, the sensitive doubt, or the consciousness which detects secret engrossment under assumed indifference; it is resolute and undisguised throughout, and seeks no shadier spot wherein to pour forth its sentimentalities than the ball-room staircase, or the opera lobby. And the character of such a lover, "My dear madam," exclaimed he with earnestconsistently enough, is generally marked by a dis-ness, "Lord Vaughan may be an angel for anyposition to seize the prominent features, and over- thing I know, and very probably is. Pray don't look the finer details, of whatsoever is submitted to fancy that I want to depreciate him." his consideration; you shall find that his enjoyment of Shakspeare is confined to an interest in the story of the play, and that his admiration of the country centres in an intense appreciation of pic-nics. Lord Vaughan, however, was a very favorable specimen of his class. Good-looking, gentlemanlike, and fluent, he amused Edith so well, that there was not a single pause in their conversation, while his merest nothings were rendered interesting by the tone of deference and the look of admiration with which he uttered them. "No," said Edith, "it is human nature in general that you want to depreciate. You want to renew the argument of last night." "I did not remember that there was an argument last night," observed he quietly-" who argued?" I felt absolutely enraged at this rudeness, but Miss Kinnaird only laughed and said, "How insulting!" "I thought," replied he, "it would rather be an insult to a lady to suppose her capable of arguing. Surely it militates a little against that ethereal gentleness which characterizes all the females in your ideal world, and which endears them so much to the high-souled generous men, as companions for whom they were created." "I wish you would not pretend to know anything about my ideal world," exclaimed she," you make dreadful mistakes about it. Besides, I should like to know which is most to be reprobated-a woman who cannot argue, or a man who cannot believe?" "Don't reckon me in the latter class!" cried he, catching for a moment the eagerness of her toue. "How delightful!" said Edith. "For once you have said what you think." I watched my fair charge closely, but could not satisfy myself that her symptoms indicated any feeling deeper than the gentle charity wherewith a girl invariably judges her first admirer. Still her state was, to say the least of it, promising; she blushed, smiled, and did not look him straight in the face; there was no saying to what it might come. I knew that Lord Vaughan bore a very high character, and that, in point of circumstances and position, he was an unexceptionable párti, so I resolved to give him every assistance in my power, and I could not help indulging a little triumph as I remembered Owen's exceedingly low opinion of my capacity as a manœuvrer, and anticipated his perfect contentment with the engagement into which I expected that his ward would enter while under my charge. Only two things specially worthy of note occurred ere the lady and her son took leave, viz., Edith was engaged for the first polka on Thursday evening, and Mrs. Alvanley was expressly included in the invitation to the ball. She owed this little piece of good fortune to the foresight which had induced her to take off her bonnet and shawl immediately after her arrival: Lady Vaughan having concluded," naturally enough, that she was a visitor in the house. 66 Well, Edith, I congratulate you!" cried Frank, when we were alone again. "A ball and a conquest so soon after your debût-it is more than you could have expected." "Yes," replied his sister, " isn't it nice?" "Isn't it nice?" repeated Captain Everard, inquiringly. "Which?" 66 66 He laughed. You don't know me," was his answer, "or you would know that I always speak as I think. You charitably give me credit for being a vast deal better than I seem; on the contrary, like most of my fellow-creatures, I am a vast deal worse." "I don't think that is possible," cried Edith. Nay, you need not laugh; I assure you I am in earnest. According to your own profession, you have neither faith, hope, nor charity." "That is a tremendous accusation," he replied; of course you are prepared to substantiate it." "You cannot deny it," persisted she; "you have no faith in human nature, no hope that it will ever become any better than it is, and therefore, of course, no charity." 66 "You have described me exactly," said he, bowing; your insight into character is wonderful; you ought to write fashionable and domestic novels." "Do But Edith was not to be bantered out of her "Neither is to be despised, I assure you," ob- severity. Whether it was that she was genuinely served Kinnaird. "Lord Vaughan is a most agree-interested in the subject, or that she was a little able fellow, and what is more, he bears the highest angry at the disparaging tone which Captain Evercharacter possible." ard had adopted about Lord Vaughan, I cannot say, but she proceeded with increased animation. you know that I think your opinions are, if sincere, the most wonderful and the most miserable that I ever met with? Have you never in all your life met with affection-real, true, unselfish affection, that can overcome and endure everything?" 'Indeed," said Everard drily, "what has he done?" "Done!" reiterated his friend, half puzzled, half indignant. "I don't know what you mean, Everard. What whim now is it, that induces you to run down Lord Vaughan?" "Run him down!" cried Captain Everard, a little indignant in his turn; "I never had such an There was a momentary expression of pain in his face, as if he shrank from the subject-at least so I fancied-but it passed away in an instant, and he answered in his former enigmatical tone, in which neither Edith nor I were able to separate the jest from the earnest, the assumption from the reality: "Oh! yes, often! It is a very pretty thing to play with when the sun shines." Edith looked at him with an expression of genuine horror; he laughed, and after a moment's pause she continued. 66 Well, then, we won't talk about yourself. Of course you must know yourself better than I do, and if you say that you are incapable of feeling anything, I am bound to believe you. But I will maintain that you have no right to judge other people by the same rule. You must look upon yourself as an exception, and when you want to understand others, you must take it for granted that they have minds and hearts unlike your own. Now, there is Frank, for instance-pray don't fancy that his friendship for you is like yours for him." "Frank is a very good fellow," said Captain Everard, with the same provoking smile, looking towards his friend, who had withdrawn to the further end of the room to write a letter; "and I am so well satisfied with his friendship that I would not wish to look too closely into it.' "Do you mean to say that his affection is only a plaything for a sunshiny day?" exclaimed Edith, indignantly; "do you mean to say that if you were in trouble he would not make sacrifices in order to serve you?" "I would never ask him," returned Everard. "Why not? Would you be too proud to ask a service, even of a friend?" 66 No," said he, "but I like to keep a few little snug illusions as long as I can; at any rate I wouldn't disperse them with my own hand. But it is a shame to talk to you in this manner. Your faith in your own illusions is so zealous that I would not disturb it for the world." "You could not," cried she. "My illusions, as you call them, are truth, and that is my great comfort. It is not because I am young and a woman that I think in this manner-the older I grow, the more steadfastly I hope I shall believe in the reality of everything which you despise! I would rather die this moment than think as you do!" He looked at her an instant with a half-amused, half-admiring expression, and then replied-"Di chi mi fido, guardami Dio! Di chi non mi fido mi guarderò io!* You know the proverb, doubtless. Kinnaird, is n't it time for us to be moving?" "I'll follow you," replied Frank, looking up; "I must finish this letter." Captain Everard bowed and took his leave. CHAPTER IV. "OH Frank!" cried Edith, throwing herself on the sofa beside her brother, "I don't like your friend at all!" "Not like him! Now my dear Edith, that is so like a school-girl-making up your mind that you don't like a man, after two days' acquaintance!" "I never could like him, if I were to know him for years besides, I think one knows very well by the end of two days how far it is possible to like a person." Her brother laughed. "Now don't teaze me, Frank," she pursued; "I am not school-girlish; and really your friend's opinions are so very dreadful, that it would be impossible for me to like him." *"God protect me from the man I trust! I will protect myself from him whom I trust not!" "My dear child, he only talks in that manner for the sake of argument. A man always tries to provoke a girl when he wants to draw her out." "But I do not like to be played with in that manner. Besides, I am quite sure he was in earnest in a great deal of what he said." "What! in his misanthropy?" asked Frank. 'Poor fellow! it is no wonder that he is a little soured; when you know his story, you will understand directly that it is almost impossible for him to take a cheerful view of life. His father died some four and twenty years ago, leaving a widow with three young children, of whom Philip, scarcely then eight years old, was the eldest. Mrs. Everard was a very attractive woman, and her children idolized her. I remember her well-there was about her that sort of undisguised warmth, nay, almost excitability of manner, which people are apt to consider a sign of deep feeling, and which, when it is accompanied by grace, fluency, and gentleness, makes a woman absolutely irresistible. But, after all, I distrust the sort of thing myself-there's no substance in it. She was the kind of woman that would go into hysterics one hour because something reminded her of her husband, and be the life and queen of a gay circle the next." "She must have been a hypocrite," said Edith, with the unhesitating decision of eighteen. "No," replied I; "I have known characters of that stamp in the course of my life, and should say of them, with Byron, They are not false, but they are fickle.' There is a fascination in the freedom and nature with which such a woman displays the very feelings which, when real, are reserved and retiring-a fascination which perhaps at first would only be resisted by a mind of unusual refinement; but, as your brother says, 'there is no substance in it.' Shakspeare, who touches everything, has given us the model of such a character in his Lady Anne, inconstant, shallow, changing.' Those who quarrel with the picture as unnatural, or who would destroy its truth by explaining away either the genuineness of her tears over her husband's corpse, or the sincerity of the weakness with which she yields to the wooing of that very husband's murderer, mistake the intention of the portrait altogether. Its very nature consists in its contradictions, which, to the merely theoretical observer, make it appear unnatural-but pray, Mr. Kinnaird, go on with Mrs. Everard's history." 6 He resumed: "Philip was a boy of unusual talent, and excessively warm affections-you may look incredulous if you please, Edith, but I have all these particulars from the very highest authority. He positively worshipped his mother. He was sent to school early; and therefore it was not to be expected that, as he grew old enough to observe, the true shallowness of her character should be discovered by him. To him she was enthusiastically affectionate; welcoming him and parting from him with floods of tears, loading him with caresses, insisting on receiving a letter from him at least once a week while they were separated, and indulging him to the very uttermost when they were together. The family arrangements were rather peculiar. Mr. Everard was a poor man, and the property which he left behind him did not amount to more than four hundred a year; this he divided equally between the widow and the eldest son, leaving the sole guardianship of the boy in the hands of a friend of tried discretion, and recommending to both, in the most earnest and affectionate terms, the charge of the two younger children. 6 heard him allude to his early trials- every day was a battle-but then it was a battle which ended in victory."" 66 "Oh!" cried Edith, whose expressive countenance had kindled into emotion as her brother proceeded with his story; you are describing a most noble character! I never should have given him credit for such heroism. And why did he change? Why did not he go into orders after all?" Frank laughed. "Everard would tell you," said he, "that you are as exaggerated in your praise as you were in your condemnation; and that it is true young lady philosophy to spring from one extreme to another." 66 Well, never mind," returned Edith, impatiently; "I don't want to hear Captain Everard's sharp speeches by proxy; and I do want, very much indeed, to know what happened next. Philip was destined for the church; he was a remarkable boy, and, even from a very early age, fully comprehending the position of the family, he habituated himself to the practice of the strictest personal self-denial. His guardian, from whom I learned these circumstances, told me, that, during a vacation which the boy passed under his roof when not more than twelve years old, his economy was so strict as to attract attention. He was evidently living by system-he refused steadily all the petty luxuries of the table, and either had no pocket-money at all, or, if he had any, never spent it. Mr. Gray, who had no very high opinion of Mrs. Everard, began to suspect that the allowance which he made her for her son's use, was partly appropriated to other purposes-or else that the boy himself was naturally stingy-a thing almost inconceivable. So he called Philip into his study one morning, and questioned him, kindly but closely. "He came home for his first vacation," said The little fellow answered with the utmost simplic- Frank, "after spending the college term in tho ity, that he had lately read for the first time the manner which I have described to you-came for letter which his father had left for him, and that, repose, affection, family comfort-and found that his now that he understood exactly how they were all mother had been married the day before to her circumstanced, he was trying to accustom himself younger boys' French master; that she had quitted to live upon as little as possible, in order that there her home with this scoundrel, and deserted the two might be money saved to pay for the education of poor boys, not only leaving them entirely dependent his brothers,' (twins, seven years younger than on their elder brother, but actually leaving unpaid himself.) For you know,' he added, Mamma debts for him to discharge! and this without a word must of course have her two hundred a year to keep of preparation or of farewell; only a note, left for house with, and I must pay for Ralph and Harry's Everard, full of hollow expressions of affection for schooling. Mr. Gray was touched, and promised himself and his brothers, and appeals to him not to his assistance in the education of the younger resent her having taken the only step which could boys; but though Philip thanked him warmly, he procure her happiness for the remainder of her life.” appeared to consider the responsibility inalienably "What a woman!" exclaimed I. Edith was his own, and did not relax the strictness of his self-speechless with horror. Frank continued his narimposed rule. As he grew older, he showed the ration. most passionate love of study, and his soul seemed "It appears that she was infatuated by her pasto be entirely absorbed in the profession for which sion for this man; and that, devoting herself to him he was preparing himself. He went to college, with a weak idolatry, she became a passive tool in and there his merit was great indeed, if it is to be his hands, and abandoned her children's interest for tried by your rule, Miss Forde, and praised propor- his without compunction. His object, of course, tionately to the temptations which it had to with- was to obtain exclusive mastery of her little income; stand. I believe I may say, speaking plain and and with that view he induced her to conceal her unvarnished truth, that he never allowed himself intentions till the marriage was actually completed, in the smallest expense that was not absolutely and they were beyond the reach of remonstrance. necessary-and you must know what that implies, He carried her to France; and it is only charitable when it describes the life of a youth during his first to conclude that he keeps her in the state of subterm at college. He had to contend not merely jection which she deserves, for she has never against the vulgar weapons of ridicule, which have answered a single letter addressed to her, nor tesever found him proof, but against the more danger-tified the smallest desire to know whether her chilous assaults of courtesy, kindness, and friendship. dren are dead or alive." For he had all the qualities which make a man popular-person, manners, conversational power both grave and humorous, high spirits, and love of adventure. Moreover he was by nature peculiarly susceptible of the attractions of society; he never could do anything by halves—he liked in the morning to shut himself up in his rooms and read for six hours without intermission, and then to spend the rest of the day either in vehement bodily exercise, or complete relaxation and reckless merriment. Think what it must have been to a character of this stamp, to lead a life in which the stern monotony of self-denial and seclusion was unvaried by a single indulgence! yet I do believe that at this time he was happy-happier than he has ever been since, poor fellow! Every energy of his nature was engrossed and occupied by one object-he was living for a purpose worthy of his entire self-devotion, and the fulfilment of which that self-devotion was sure eventually to attain. Every day,' as he once said, on the only occasion on which I have "Inconceivable heartlessness!" said Edith; "she must be acting under compulsion, and I hope she is thoroughly miserable.' "By this time," pursued her brother, I suppose Everard has your full sympathies, and you have transferred your hatred for him to his mother. He behaved admirably. Whatever he may have felt, he betrayed it not for a moment; he at once abandoned all his prospects, accepted a commission which was offered to him by a friend of his late father, gave up the whole of his own income for the use of the younger children, and lived upon his pay. He has never since mentioned his mother's name. Doubtless there is a stern and bitter feeling at his heart, all the stronger for being so resolutely suppressed. But now, Edith, is it wonderful that his nature should be a little soured, and his faith in his fellow-creatures a little shaken? For eighteen years of his life he believed his mother to be the very perfection of unselfish tenderness, and would have held it sacrilege to doubt her. Can such a feeling as this be suddenly destroyed without the whole man undergoing a painful and irrevocable change?" which ensured that the rest of the morning, if not the whole of the day, should be passed in the society of the beautiful heiress. All that I saw of him "And his hopes blighted, and his thoughts and I liked. He was unaffected, lively, and goodcourse of life forced to a new and unnatural bent, humored; and, if not very refined in his tastes or and the source and spring of all affection in him intellectual in his pursuits, I was disposed to think dried up, as if by burning!-no, indeed! the won- that a sensible wife might make just what she der is that he did not become a misanthrope or a pleased of him. That Edith was his superior in madman." mental power there could be little doubt; but I "I need not have feared your want of sympa-persuaded myself that this was of no consequence thy," said Kinnaird, smiling; "as to the rest, you forgetting, or overlooking, the fact, that he was know what a friend Everard has been to me; I owe destitute of that ascendancy of character which it to him that I am not an utter scapegrace-most alone can compensate for the want of intellectual probably that I am alive at all; for you know how superiority; and that an union in which the wife his steady friendship extricated me from the worst moulds the husband, and not the husband the wife, scrape I ever was in-the duel with that fellow is one with which love, properly so called, can have Vincent. Without (I hope) being really ill-dis- nothing whatever to do. posed, I was open to every temptation, ready for every mischief that came in my way; but for him I believe I should have become a confirmed gambler. I shall be grateful to him as long as I live, as I ought to be; and some day or other perhaps he will do more justice to my feelings towards him than I am afraid he does just now; though, mark you, I do not take all the nonsense he has been talking to you for his earnest opinion." CHAPTER V. THURSDAY evening came, and I was not disappointed in Edith's appearance. The splendor of her beauty produced a sensation of which it was scarcely possible that she should be unconscious, and to which perhaps the deep blush which burned on her cheeks and lent double radiancy to her eyes, might be attributed. Her brother was in ecstasies, and watched the progress of Lord Vaughan's attentions to her with manifest satisfaction. I was in "Oh! I shall understand him now!" replied Edith; "his bitterness of tone is not only natural, but inevitable. How I hope," she added thought-the boudoir which had been metamorphosed into a fully," that he may be rewarded by happiness after all!" The conversation dropped here, for Frank departed to put his letters into the post, and Edith fell into so deep a reverie that I did not like to disturb her. conservatory for the evening, making some very I answered, as I felt, very warmly; but his appealing eye passed to Captain Everard, who, as though it had never before occurred to him to inquire whether Miss Kinnaird were ugly or beautiful, made a step forward, so as to command a view of the dancing-room, and, after a pause of provokingly quiet consideration, replied "Yes; Miss Kinnaird is certainly very handsome.' "You don't admire that style," said Frank, scarcely able to conceal his chagrin. "Indeed I do," returned Everard, "I admire all styles." 66 The most unsatisfactory answer you could possibly have made," cried I. The week which was to be endured (the expression is scarcely too strong, when applied to the feelings of a girl of eighteen awaiting her first ball) ere the important Thursday should arrive, passed away much as might have been anticipated. Frank and Captain Everard were perpetually with us; but, though Edith had become charity itself towards the latter, in consequence of the interest she felt in his history, I confess that my own feelings with regard to him were by no means softened. His agreeableness and conversational powers were undeniable; but the offensiveness of his opinions seemed rather to increase than to diminish, while his total indifference to Edith's charms absolutely annoyed me. He still maintained that tone of banter which rendered it difficult to separate jest from earnest in what he said, and well nigh impossible to discover how far the sentiments which he expressed were genuine, and how far they were merely assumed for the sake of drawing out his fair antag- "I am unfortunate," observed he, with a half onist, whose enthusiasm seemed to increase in pro- smile. "But here comes a gentleman, whose open portion to his levity, as though she were seriously raptures are likely to give more satisfaction than my bent on converting him to happier views. My dis-quiet approval. Unhappily you know-or perhaps like to him I think he perceived, but treated it with happily for myself-I am not made of inflammable that contemptuous indifference which seems natural materials." to the heart of man when the phenomenon yclept old maid is under consideration. With Lord Vaughan, on the other hand, I was every day more pleased; I say every day," for he was literally a daily visitor. A message from his mother, a book to borrow or lend, a song to introduce and sentimentalize over, (for he had all that shallow gentleman-like enthusiasm about music which consists in an uncriticizing admiration of a pretty song from the lips of a pretty girl;) some pretext or other was sure to bring him up the garden-sweep, a little before the witching hour of luncheon; and then it was not his fault if arrangements were not made 66 As he spoke, the polka broke up, and Lord Vaughan sauntered into the conservatory with Edith leaning on his arm. They were in animated conversation, and came direct to us, the lady appealing to me with a mixture of playfulness and earnest to induce her partner to restore some flowers which he had stolen from her bouquet, while he on his part was manifestly determined to retain them. I could not make out whether Miss Kinnaird was pleased on annoyed at her companion's broadlyexpressed devotion, but she wound up her oration by suddenly turning to Captain Everard, (who had taken no part in the discussion, though Frank and |