there is but one eye in a family there must be always a beauty amongst them. Do you believe, Miss Marabout, that Charlotte has really refused Sir Colin Fletcher?"

"It is difficult to say; but no man could be worse spared in society than poor Sir Colin, for he has such a philandering way that every young lady of his acquaintance gives out annually she has refused him; and I make a principle of believing them all.”

"Charlotte Clifford is never acquainted with any young lady for an hour without asking to be her confidante, and on these confidential occasions there must be something to tell; but she has scarcely her equal in the world for getting up a romantic story impromptu. She gave me a splendid edition of Sir Colin's disappointment, and then asked me to return a Rowland for an Oliver by serving up poor Lord Alderby."

"Those who confess a petty theft to their friends expect to be told of a murder in return," said Miss Marabout, complaisantly, " and you have already a multitude to answer for. I understand that we are to have a visit from that diverting vagabond, Mr Grant,' as Lady Susan Danvers calls him."

"Yes," replied Eleanor, slightly colouring, "we could not be off asking him, because he acts as Sir Alfred's second in canvassing the neighbouring county, and they are quite inseparable. Mr Grant's little property marches' with mine, though we do not march long together, as his whole estate is scarcely so extensive as one of my largest farms. Yet you would be astonished what influence he has acquired in the neighbourhood, as well as on his uncle Sir Evan Grant's extensive property near mine. All my people talk of his old descent, and his high principles and extensive benevolence, as if he were really a man of consequence."

"Mr Grant may say, like Sir Lucius O'Trigger, though the mansion-house and dirty acres have slipped away, our honour and the family pictures remain as fresh as ever," observed Miss Marabout, with a contemptuous laugh.

"I shall not be sorry to see him back, however," added Eleanor ; "he amuses me beyond measure; and besides, when Sir Alfred Douglas and Mr Grant started off with one accord to the continent, it really seemed as if all my hangers-on had struck work at once."

"You really do task them very hard, and hold out but little hope of future reward," replied Miss Marabout, in her usual fawning tone. "Positively Lord Alderby's attentions to your white poodle are quite beyond praise."

"Poor dear Blanco! it will be my greatest joy on returning home to meet him again," exclaimed Eleanor, affectedly. "He sent me a wag of his tail by the last letter I had from the housekeeper, and Lord Alderby has certainly been an admirable tutor. Blanco sits at the piano, and makes sounds not much more discordant than Lady Susan Danvers, when she sings her only song, 'Di Tanti Palpiti;' and I am told, when you ask the dear dog what he would do for papa, he barks like a fury; but if he is asked to show what he would do for me, he falls down dead. That was really no bad idea of gallantry for an elderly gentleman like Lord Alderby to teach him."

"If you could only grind his lordship young again, and get a carpenter's plane to diminish his enormous physiognomy," said Miss Marabout," he might be, with the earl's coronet, a very endurable person. What a pity it is that such a man should ever grow old; but I remember our hearing, last time he dined at Barnard

Castle, that the only tooth in his head was aching; and he is accused of being rheumatic, which shows him to be very much broke. In short, it seems like summer and winter when you and he are together."

"Did you ever hear the fable," asked Matilda, "that once upon a time Cupid and Death having fallen asleep, Mercury very mischievously mingled their arrows, which accounts for young people sometimes dying, and for very old people falling in love?"

CHAPTER IV.

The yew-tree lent its shadows dark,
And many an old oak, worn and bare,
With all its shiver'd boughs, was there.

DURING the progress of their journey, in that singularly bleak and desolate stage between Dalnacardoch and Dalwhinny, the evening had nearly closed in, when Matilda was surprised to observe a well-mounted equestrian, in a long horseman's cloak and very much muffled up, who rode alongside of the britschska, and stared incessantly at the whole party, as if he were resolved to identify them; but the instant that Eleanor perceived the stranger, she let down her veil, put up her parasol, and looked at Miss Marabout, who immediately did the same, while they began to exchange a few whispering exclamations of surprise and annoyance. Matilda rapidly ran up quite a little romance in her own mind, as to who this mysterious incognito might possibly be, and she thought his appearance fitted him admirably to act the villain of the piece. He had a dark, Schedonilooking countenance, and his large eyes were so extremely prominent, that, whenever he winked, it seemed an equal chance whether his eyeballs were shut in, or shut out; he was apparently about fifty years of age, but still in the vigour of his strength, and rode extremely well. It is astonishing when people are travelling, how intense is their curiosity to know the name of every

D

individual who may happen to lodge at the same inn, or to pass on the road. Matilda had wearied herself with conjectures about the probable rank of their fellowtraveller, when, next morning, Sir Richard mentioned, in a tone of apprehension, to Eleanor, as if he anticipated an explosion of indignant surprise, that he had "accidentally met Armstrong, who offered to breakfast with them at the next stage." This intelligence was received in angry silence, and Matilda then remembered to have heard very frequent complaints from her cousin, that an old friend of Sir Philip's had almost forced himself into Barnard Castle during the previous summer, and steadily kept his position there in defiance of every stratagem which Eleanor's ingenuity could suggest to dislodge him. Matilda had laughed often at the stories she heard of the heiress's contrivances to affront him out of the house, and of the dogged unconsciousness with which her hints and sarcasms were all received by the object of them; and she could scarcely help smiling, when at length Mr Armstrong entered their sittingroom, with the sort of awkward swagger which is usually assumed by those who are doubtful of their welcome and determined to brave the worst. Eleanor gave him a look of tall contempt, and scarcely bent her head in return for a bow of almost exaggerated respect with which the intruder saluted her. Not a word passed between them; yet Matilda could not but observe an expression of fierce malignity which glittered for a moment in the large prominent eye of Mr Armstrong while he bent it on Eleanor's haughty countenance and then turned to Sir Richard, who received his guest with that air of easy, good-natured hospitality which nothing could alter.

Few words passed between them, however, as both