CHAPTER III. "He was a man; take him for all in all, SHAKSPEARE. "Mysterious are His ways, whose power Shall meet, unite, and part no more." COWPER. THE evening of Miss Hackett's party arrived, and Ethel with a heavy heart entered the fly which was to convey her to Tarleton Place, accompanied by her father and sister. Miss Hackett, notwithstanding her delicate health, received them with even greater cordiality than usual on their arrival. Several persons were assembled, but the Raymonds had not yet entered. They were soon afterwards announced, and Ethel for the first time saw the people about whom she had heard so much for the last few weeks. She had been quite wearied with the never-ending questions, "Had she seen the Raymonds?" "Had they called on them?" "Did she not think Mr. Raymond very handsome, and his sister very elegant?" "Had she heard how they liked Thurlston ?" "Did they intend to visit much?" &c. &c. Although she had been unable to answer these queries, and cared very little about them, she could not wonder that people should have shown so much curiosity about the new-comers, for certainly there was something very interesting about them. Mr. Raymond was, as Mr. Woodville had described him, extremely good-looking, and a perfect gentleman. There was an ease in his manner at once becoming and attractive-a sort of consciousness (without any affectation) that he ranked above his neighbours, and yet no patronising air about him to disgust and annoy. Ethel could not but observe that his smile was very sweet, and that his countenance was the index of a noble and generous heart. His sister was a very elegant and ladylike girl, and, without having a precisely pretty face, there was so much vivacity and intelligence about it as to make the beholder forget to look for regular features or a brilliant complexion. But Ethel had hardly time to make these observations when Miss Hackett, who had been making a round of introductions, presented Mr. and Miss Raymond to her. Ethel raised her eyes for a moment as she bowed, and encountered those of Mr. Raymond fixed earnestly upon her; she was angry with herself because her colour rose, but he turned from her almost immediately, and addressed Miss Hackett. Dinner was soon afterwards announced, and Ethel found herself seated at the table, compelled to listen to the conversation of a conceited, frivolous young officer, with whom Laura had flirted for some months, and who left Ethel no time to make observations, so incessant were his demands upon her attention on subjects about which she felt no interest. When the ladies returned to the drawing-room Miss Raymond seated herself beside Ethel, and began an animated conversation with her, and was so pleasant and free from affectation, that Ethel soon felt quite at ease with her. She asked many questions about the neighbourhood and the people, requesting Ethel to tell her the names of the persons in the room; then about the manufacture of the place, saying how much she should like to see the machinery at work, and that her brother had promised to take her over one of the mills, from which she anticipated much pleasure. Then she spoke of her delight at being again settled in a home. She had not left school long, she said, when her brother purchased Thurlston, and she was very glad to come and live in the country, having grown tired of London. She was so agreeable that Ethel felt sorry when the gentlemen joined them and music was introduced. Laura was a most brilliant pianist, and delighted to have an opportunity for displaying her talents, so that she occupied a considerable time at the instrument. When she had finished, Miss Raymond was asked to succeed her; but she declined, as she was no musician. Ethel was then requested to sing, and painful as it was to her she rose to comply, knowing that her father would be angry if she refused. She remembered the last time she had sung at Miss Hackett's her mother had been there, and had accompanied her in a duet; now that mother's voice was hushed for ever on earth. Raymond was standing near the piano as she took her seat, and again her eye met his, her colour deepened once more, while a peculiar sensation rose to her heart. He stepped forward, ready to turn over the leaves of her music for her. Her hands trembled as she played the symphony, and her voice was low and husky, with her restrained tears, in the first part of the song; but her singing increased in power as she proceeded with that well-known and beautiful song of Laud's : "When Sorrow sleepeth, wake it not." Ethel possessed a rich, clear, contralto voice, of good compass, and as her agitation subsided she quite thrilled the hearts of those who heard her, by the depth of expression with which she gave the song, and as the last soft words fell on the ear, the deepest silence prevailed in the room, so riveted was every one's attention. Certainly her success had never been so great, and it might be attributed partly to the real sorrow in her heart, which had not been suffered to sleep, but had been rudely awakened only to recall past days when her beloved parent had been with her. She rose from her seat to listen to the flattering compliments of many, and entreaties for another song. "Will you sing this one?" inquired Ada Raymond, who was standing near her when she finished. Ethel glanced at the title, it was by the same composer as the one she had been singing- "The Sunshine of our Home," it was entitled. " Will you excuse me, if you please; any but that. I did not know I had brought it," she replied. So another was chosen, and Ethel sat down again, ever willing to please. 6 "Poor Ethel!" said Miss Hackett to Ada, when she was at length allowed to retire; "she could not sing The Sunshine of our Home,' it reminds her so of her mother: it seems as if the sunshine had indeed left that poor child's heart since Mrs. Woodville's death. I begin to doubt whether she will ever get over it." "I am very sorry I even asked her to sing it," replied Ada, grieved to have awakened a painful remembrance. Miss Hackett, seeing how much interested her companion was, continued the conversation about Ethel, and contrived to enlighten her very much upon Ethel's position at home, and so enlisted Ada's warmest sympathy for her young friend. Meanwhile Mr. Raymond had left the piano, and was seated beside Ethel. She felt her reserve soon Ivanish with him as well as his sister. He addressed her so easily and politely, yet there was no affectation in his manner to make her fancy he was only talking to her to while away the time, whilst there was an entire absence of that condescension of manner which young and wealthy men sometimes assume towards ladies, as if they were conferring the greatest favour upon them by their notice. Raymond was a man of real refinement and delicacy of feeling, and in conversing with ladies his manners were always peculiarly winning and agreeable. If he found them frivolous and disposed to flirt, he soon contrived to leave them, and seek companionship elsewhere, but never at the expense of knowingly wounding their feelings. His keen discrimination of character had easily enabled him to penetrate the thin veil which concealed Laura's frivolity and heartlessness, and he had not voluntarily addressed his conversation to her that evening. On the other hand, Ethel's beauty had riveted his attention, not only because pleasing outwardly, but as being of such a character as to reveal a mind in all respects superior to what is generally met with. And he was not disappointed in his conjectures. Ethel thoroughly enjoyed his conversation; it was irresistibly fascinating. He was a clever man, well versed in the learning of the world, and with talents to turn it to advantage. He had travelled much, and had a rich fund of pleasing anecdote and varied expression. He had also mingled in the best society, and was cognisant of all those pleasing attentions and delicate compliments which are so difficult to resist. But, |