CHAPTER II. I fondly thought In thee I'd found the friend my heart had sought; KIRKE WHITE. ABOUT ten days after the preceding conversation, Sir Francis Howard had concluded a long philippic against luncheons, in the way in which gentlemen usually end them, by sociably drawing his chair towards the table, and becoming the greatest beef-eater of the party himself, when Sir Richard Fitz-Patrick entered, accompanied by Eleanor and Miss Marabout, who were now inseparable companions, for the young heiress would have felt as great a privation without her ci-devant governess as the unfortunate man did who in a rash moment parted with his shadow. "Howard! when are you coming to beat up our quarters in the North?" asked Sir Richard, while scientifically employed in selecting the trouffles from a paté Perigord. "You shall be up to the chin in turtle and venison every day at our chateau." Captain Ross has promised me a passage next time he goes your way, and Captain Back is to pick me up, if he ever returns." "But seriously, my good friend, we have admirable sport, if that will be any inducement-you may shoot partridges at the door, and catch salmon out of the window, besides having a shot at the red deer, which abound in our forests. I saw a prodigious herd the day before we left Barnard Castle, and my neighbour Alderby persevered in stalking one for fifteen miles. The sport is so unrivalled in its way, that when once a man is thoroughly initiated in deer-stalking he never enjoys any thing else." "Then never attempt to initiate me,' for depend upon it, that all my happiness in life would be ended if ever I became disgusted with hunting. Let me be put in my coffin as soon as the huntsman's bugle loses its attraction." "Bring two or three of your hunters, then, next month, for we are going to try the experiment of starting a pack in my neighbourhood. De Mainbury is to hunt our country for the first time this year, and we expect capital sport." "Rather a hilly country to ride across," cried Sir Francis. "I shall certainly run a steeple chase over Ben Nevis." "We are plentifully peopled with foxes," continued Sir Richard eagerly; "the only danger is that three at least will be starting in different directions, and we have only one pack of hounds; but a most numerous field is likely to turn out. Colonel Pendarvis, Major Foley, Alderby, Fletcher, unnumbered Mackenzies, and countless Grants. Apropos, Tom Grant has returned from picture-gazing abroad, and writes me that his present intention is to aid and abet Sir Alfred Douglas in canvassing our neighbouring boroughs, with which laudable intention they are to set out some weeks hence for that strange, old, ivy-covered castle of the young candidate's, which looks almost as grand and frowning as himself—but my reply to their announcement of today was, that unless they both make Barnard Castle their headquarters I shall vote on the other side. They must positively use a little bribery and undue influence with me, and my stipulations were peremptory." At this moment, Eleanor inadvertently upset a basin of sugar, and Matilda started forward to assist her; while Sir Francis laughingly observed, that it was the first time he had ever seen her commit an actual gaucherie; but he hoped that, as it was considered unlucky to throw down salt, it must be the very reverse to overturn sugar. "But, my poor Matilda! what a fright you must have got, for I have not seen such a brilliant carnation exhibited on your cheek for months. It is lucky that none of my hunters are so easily startled, for you shy at every thing of late; and really, Maria, we ought to do something for that poor girl, she is becoming thinner every day, and quite out of condition now; we must have change of scene, for she is positively vanishing into thin air altogether, and I would lame my best hunter to set her on her legs again. Perhaps a trip to Leamington might be of some use, as no one can be in health now without consulting the magician there; and it would suit me quite as well to hunt for a season with the Warwickshire hounds." "Pshaw! nonsense!-Let Matilda go with us to Barnard Castle," exclaimed Sir Richard, earnestly. "Eleanor is flapping her wings to take flight thither next Monday, and will be enchanted to have her of the party." There was no suitable look of enchantment at these words, however, in the heiress's countenance, who seemed intent upon her occupation of paring an apple, which, to judge from her expression, might have been the apple of discord. "What do you say, Matilda?" continued the hospi table baronet, who never read looks, and always supposed his daughter's mind to be a duodecimo edition of his own. "We have a spare corner in the britschska, for I shall ride all the way, so Eleanor and Miss Marabout only want you to complete their agreeable trio. You might sing catches and glees along the road, eh! Matilda All's well-or, When shall we three meet again,' eh ! " There was both thunder and lightning in Eleanor's glance at this unexpected proposition of her father's; but she hummed broken snatches of the last new opera, and tried to seem unconscious of what was passing, until an opportunity occurred, when, having caught his eye, she attempted to stop the current of his eloquence with one of those family frowns which are like freemasons' signals, perceptible only to the initiated. "I know your drift, Eleanor," continued Sir Richard, who was never very easily dismounted from his hobby; "but I am not reckoning without my hostess. The seat in our carriage is really vacant, for Charlotte Clifford has accepted the Chiltern Hundreds, and cannot leave home till nearer Christmas, when she is to follow, instead of accompanying us. I thought you had known this already. But now, Matilda, can you have all the necessaries of life ready by Monday morning, or must we linger till Tuesday? You are well worth waiting for, and if I think so, what must Eleanor feel?” "I thank you a thousand times," replied Matilda, colouring deeply; you are very kind, but” "I never like a sentence ending with a but,' and beginning with a multitude of thanks-it always betokens evil," interrupted Sir Richard, hastily; "but you shall not get off very easily, for I mean to be as pertinacious as the Scotchman who told Mr Pitt that he considered every refusal a step; so tell me now, what little whimsical reason are you going to give for disappointing us? This is the only compensation we can make to Eleanor for being jilted by Charlotte Clifford; and, indeed, now that I think of it, you ought certainly to have had the precedence of her; and I wonder it was not all arranged sooner, for there is no thing I enjoy so much as to have a circle of cheerful, merry young faces round me." At the mention of cheerfulness, Eleanor stole one of her own peculiar glances at Miss Marabout, satirically directing her attention towards the downcast expression of Matilda's countenance, who was painfully embarrassed, because, little as she wished to accept the unexpected offer of this excursion, and nothing could be farther from her intention, yet she felt wounded and surprised at the marked coldness of Eleanor's manner, who had not said, nor looked, the most transient expression of common civility on the occasion. The preference given to Miss Clifford had also astonished and mortified her. Matilda never imagined that with the confident tone of superiority constantly assumed by Eleanor in their intercourse, there was mingled a rankling feeling of jealousy towards herself, and yet nothing had been more carefully instilled into the mind of her pupil by Miss Marabout than a spirit of angry and contemptuous competition against Miss Howard. It was, indeed, surprising how much Eleanor had succeeded in blinding herself to her cousin's beauty and good qualities. She had fully persuaded herself that neither could be discernible in her own presence that Matilda's eyes, so "deeply, darkly, beautifully blue," were not comparable to the lustre of hazel,—and that the more subdued vivacity of Matilda's conversation could never be preferred to the |