thousand times a-day wished she had never seen Sir William Sherrard, and that she might never see him more. He had an established footing in the family of which she could not dispossess him. He was with them at all hours, shared in all their pursuits and amusements, and was never for any length of time a hundred inches from Jeannette's side. He appeared to be determined not to be offended; she was provoked, and while the world thought her happy and enviable in her conquest, she would have purchased the absence of this supposed lover at any price.

Lindsay Bathurst grew irritated, not so much from jealousy as impatience. He saw Jeannette was often displeased, but he was angry with her for submitting to attentions which she could not prevent. He one day said to her,“ Do you, Jeannette, encourage that coxcomb?-tell me."

"Can you believe it possible?"

"Enough, dearest Jeannette,-but that you should tolerate him!"

"As if it were an affair of choice!"

"Will he ever go away?

"I hope so."

"By Heavens! here he is again.--Jeannette, let us sing together" and without awaiting her answer, he placed before her an Italian air, the burden of which was, "Chi mai fu amato al par di te." Sir William Sherrard knew nothing of Italian, but he applauded, and Captain Bathurst continued to turn over the best operas of Mozart and Rossini, and to choose, as he said, à discretion, whatever songs or duets best answered his purpose. At one moment he chose the cantata "Che vuoi mio cor?" and slightly emphasizing his words, said, "Do me the favour, Jeannette, to sing that to me ?"--At another "Ah perché s' io, ti detesto, s' io ti scaccio !"--adding, " Oblige Sir William Sherrard and myself by singing this." Then, "As a finale, Jeannette, this beautiful duet, and I will ask no more."

When the music ceased, Matilda said, "Come here, Jeannette; I have an exquisite little book to show you-and Dr. Milman wants to thank you for your singing, though I think your selection was not of the best."

Jeannette bit her lip, and her cheek flushed with something like resentment; and a sudden conviction shot across her mind (if such a term may be applied to the fear of a

moment originating in disappointment), that Matilda was becoming unkind.

A supposition farther from the truth could scarcely have been imagined. Matilda's anxiety for Jeannette was hourly increasing, for she saw with tolerable clearness the actual state of things. She believed that Captain Bathurst loved her sister; but Hamond had taken so much pains to prejudice her against him, and had so often repeated word for word the speech which had so deeply offended himself, that to Matilda the idea of such an attachment was the most melancholy thing in the world. She saw, too, that her father was completely deceived.

When, however, this evening she found, by Jeannette's long silence, the steadiness of her gaze, and the slight air of pique spread over her countenance, that she had given her pain, she endeavoured to atone for it by entering into conversation with Captain Bathurst, and paying him marked attention. He had always admired Matilda, and justly estimated her steadiness in the path of duty, as well as her exceeding love for Jeannette, and in the exhilaration of his spirits, all but made her the confidante of an affection which he then thought could know no change, and which he then meant not to combat. He spoke of her beauty as of something supernatural :--he had never before, he said, fully understood what the poets meant by rays of beauty,-now he did entirely.

Matilda was accustomed to hear the beauty of Jeannette admired, Sir William Sherrard seldom talked to her of any thing else, and she was also accustomed to suppress her own opinion of it, for she thought it so transcendent, she was afraid to speak of it.

She therefore now simply said

"She is a very good girl."

"Good-merely good--my dear Miss Langham!"

"Good, as I understand it, Captain Bathurst, is great praise-it expresses every thing in character worth caring

for."

"Ah, indeed! and in this wide sense a beautiful word it is ;" and his brilliant eyes seemed to Matilda to be suffused with tears, as he added in an under voice, "She is indeed good."

Matilda's heart inclined more towards him than she ap

proved: she only smiled in reply; and turning towards Dr. Milman, asked him if he had deigned to choose an emblematic flower for himself in "La Grammaire des Fleurs," which he appeared to have been studying.

"Not for myself, Miss Langham-flowers are not unfitting mementos to old age, but they are bad emblems. I have chosen therefore two for you; take your choice, young lady, between acacia and balm."

"I must inquire first their meaning, sír. Oh! I see, acacia douceur-baume vertu. Delightful! I will pass the book round. Captain Bathurst, choose a flower for yourself, or another."

Captain Bathurst glanced his eye over the page, and pointed to lierre rampant. “Je meure, où je m'attache," as he put the book into the hands of Jeannette.

“Read it aloud, if you please, Miss Jeannette Langham,” said Dr. Milman. She did so mechanically, before she noticed its application; and her blush was so evident at having done it, that Dr. Milman remarked it, and said to her, "Will you let me choose one for you?"

“With much pleasure."

"The sensitive--but the motto here says, 'Mystery,'-that is not good; let us make a better.”

"Too tender," said Matilda, "for even tenderness to touch,--will that line do, sir?"

66

Excellently well, Miss Langham-none could be better." Mr. Langham had approached the group, and the sigh was audible to Matilda which betrayed her father's mental acknowledgment of the too great truth of the motto she had chosen.

She changed the subject. "Have you arranged, my dear father, to go to Charlton to-morrow with Sir William Sherrard ?""

"This moment settled it, my child-we start at eleven, and mean to have a strong party. Captain Bathurst, would you like to accompany us?"

A moment's reflection enabled Captain Bathurst to say he was afraid he could not have that pleasure. But when he was wishing good-night, Matilda overheard him whisper to Jeannette, "Do not go to Charlton, Jeannette." Jeannette did not answer, but Matilda was certain that the word of promise beamed from her eye.

CHAPTER XXIX.

-Oh, it is excellent

To have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.-SHAKSPEARE.

THE event proved she was right. At breakfast on the following morning, Jeannette declined being of the party to Charlton. Mr. Langham made no objection; and Matilda, to her inquiry of why? was compelled to appear satisfied with the unsatisfactory reason assigned by Jeannette, "that she had rather remain at home." She in vain endeavoured to obtain an interview with her sister before she started, for breakfast was scarcely over when Sir William Sherrard made his appearance. Her father and Hamond were ready, and she was obliged to accompany them.

The morning was warm and lowering, one of those doubtful mornings so frequent in November-one moment threatening a deluge, and the next promising sunshine.

"I am afraid," said Mr. Langham, as they proceeded up the Old Well Walk, "that we shall have rain. We had really, I think, better wait to see the determination of the weather."

"It will certainly be more prudent, sir," said Matilda. "Suppose we return, and perhaps Jeannette will go with us by-and-by, if it should be fine."

Mr. Langham consented, and they turned somewhat suddenly round. In so doing they came awkwardly in front of a gentleman and lady who had been walking behind them so slowly and silently, that their footsteps had not been heard. A slight apology was made, and Matilda observed that the lady bent to Hamond, while her companion exchanged bows with Sir William Sherrard. Her father appeared not to notice this circumstance; yet he paused and followed the stranger with his eye with considerable interest. "I wonder who they are?" at length broke from him, to which direct inquiry she was astonished to find that neither Sir William ner Hamond attempted a reply. Matilda thought

it strange; but her attention was immediately attracted by her father addressing her in a low voice:

6

"When we have once entered the avenues of age,' as Montaigne happily expresses it, Matilda, we are much concerned about our equals in years. We want to know if they have advanced as far as ourselves, and how. It is a strong bond of sympathy-possibly one of the strongest. Childhood, infancy, youth, or manhood, knows nothing like it. I have been reflecting that my age, Matilda, must be nearly that of the invalid who has now passed us."

"I should think not, my dear father. You look so very much younger and better; and avenues, you must remember, are very deceitful things: we always seem nearer the end of them than we really are. What a time it takes to walk down this, for example! yet it seems very short when we are at the other end."

Mr. Langham sighed, and simply replied, "My dear child!" but in a tone that rejected her argument, and at the same time acknowledged her kindness.

Matilda had hoped they were returning home, and was disappointed when her father proposed going to the library, and that she should go with him. It was impossible to object; and, after lounging away more than an hour at different shops on their way, they at length established themselves in W-'s library. To Matilda's great satisfaction, Captain Bathurst was there when they arrived, with Dr. Milman ; and from the lively impatience visible in the countenance of the former, she conjectured he was no willing listener to the always sensible, but occasionally wearisome periods of the doctor. He certainly looked unhappy enough to justify the supposition; and Matilda, glad that he was not with Jeannette, strove to secure his not going till her own return. She found it a task of less difficulty than she had imagined it would have been, to engage him in looking out some music for her.

In the mean time, the strangers they had passed in the morning entered the shop, and Matilda found her attention riveted to them. The young lady spoke to the shopman; she thought she had heard the voice before. The invalid asked some questions, and her father started, turned quickly around, changed to an ashy paleness, and sunk into the chair he had quitted. It was all the affair of a moment; but in