pleased to say that I now wanted very little tuition, I own I was so happy at school that I by no means wished for holidays, or to take my degree; and, what with Lord Castleton's good opinion of me, what with her own good-nature, and what, perhaps, was something, our constant talk, more or less, of Granville, in our meetings, she by no means rescinded the liberty she had allowed me of waiting upon her.

At these visits, as I have said, Granville was always more or less mentioned, and she would often talk of the firmness of his mind.

Pity it was, she one day said, that he was not his elder brother, and then, though perhaps a little too old, he would be a charming match for his pretty cousin, her darling Bertha.

At these words I grew embarrassed, particularly as she looked at me so archly, and, as I thought, so searchingly, that I could not help thinking, though with no very precise idea of her intention, that she had some inkling of the devotion I had formerly shewn, and wished to discover whether, and how far, it continued.

Ladies, whatever their rank, and with all their superiorities of talent and genius, which make them seemingly above all common-place feelings, are yet always women where a love tale is concerned; and Lady Hungerford could not have been in the same house with the loquacious Mrs. Margaret without

hearing something of the adventure with the poachers, and the consequent unfortunate delirium.

I parried her speech as well as I could; and having been now, for some time, allowed all the ease of a friend, I resolved to pursue the subject of Granville, by saying, that I thought I could be certain that such a match as she had alluded to would never take place.

"How?" said Lady Hungerford, rather hurriedly; "you speak as from authority. Do you know? Have you heard of any engagement? Do you think Miss Hastings has placed her affections elsewhere ?"

"No;" returned I, " but he has."

This was pretty bold; perhaps indiscreet in regard to Granville; yet it was for his sake I said it, for I wanted to discover whether it would produce any, and what effect upon this high-bred, but still unsophisticated lady.

Practised as she was, and firm in the government of her countenance, a transient gleam came over her features, and it was not without an indication of, at least, curiosity, that she asked me the ground of my opinion.

"As a friend, much interested that he should be happy," said she, "I wish to know."

She said this so naturally, that I was rather baffled, though I thought I would still go on with

my experiment, particularly when she farther asked whether he had been captivated at home or abroad. "Oh!" said I," both;" but, roguishly looking at her, I added, "I believe chiefly at Paris."

Here she was certainly off her guard, for she absolutely coloured, and observed

"I must not ask you to reveal secrets, but I think I know the lady-the Countess Montalembert ?"

"No;" said I, with a boldness that astonished myself, "it was a viscountess."

Whether I looked so significantly on saying this, that she discovered what I meant, I know not, but with an almost affectation of gaiety (certainly a gaiety not natural to her), she immediately said,

66 Well, well, I don't wish to know; and here we have been both doing wrong; I, in prying into secrets I have no right to; you, in betraying, if indeed you know them. I am afraid false man, Mr. De Clifford, and I

you are a very shall tell your

friend not to trust you. I am sorry, however, that poor Bertha has so little chance. I suppose you will, as in friendship bound, inform her of it."

If I had at all discomposed Lady Hungerford, she now had her revenge; for, seriously hurt by this allusion to a friendship so long at an end, and feeling bitterly that I was banished for ever from the confidence I was supposed to enjoy, I faltered rather than said,

"Indeed, madam, though your supposition does me honour, it is one I cannot pretend to. I have not even seen Miss Hastings these two years; and but for your kind communication I should never have dreamt I was remembered, having so little right to it, by any of the family."

My lip quivered as I said this; all my courage, which had led me to be almost impertinent, was annihilated, and my experiment on Lady Hungerford reverberated on my own head.

Her real good-nature now came to my assistance, and she said, with the kind consideration which belonged to her,

66

Nay, Mr. De Clifford, this must not be; I cannot permit your humility, unaffected as I really believe it is, to make you suppose, what it is even ungrateful in you to imagine-that your early friends are so capricious or so unjust. Mr. Hastings himself, any more than his dear daughter, is not a person to throw away his opinions-favourable to-day, lost to-morrow. I told you the first moment I saw you, that they remembered you with interest, and the letters I have received from Bertha, since I informed her of our acquaintance, and your position with Lord Castleton, to say nothing of your progress, would convince you that neither she nor her father are such changeable beings as you fancy them.”

I felt myself agitated to a still greater degree by

this account, and knew not how to look, when this kind, as well as accomplished lady, thought it right to endeavour to put me more at my ease, by telling me the extent of what she knew.

"Come," said she, " I see you are under constraint from doubts, and perhaps fears, of what I do or do not know. I will tell you, therefore, frankly, that I know all the night adventure with the poachers, and all that passed in the delirium occasioned by your consequent illness. I know, too, all your expressed opinions of the possibility of loving without hope, and am in possession of your pretty verses on that subject. What is more, I know all that in your agitation escaped you in last interview with Bertha, which that feeling and just-minded girl told me, with tears in her eyes.

your

"Tears!" cried I, in greater agitation than ever. "Tears! in such an angel, from such a cause !"

"Yes," said Lady Hungerford, "for the tears of benevolence (and your emotion obliges me to tell you they were no more) will easily be made to flow from a good, and particularly a youthful heart. Now do not let this plunge you into the dreadful mistake of supposing that this feeling of Miss Hastings proceeded from any thing but what I have called it, benevolence. Nor, did I think you like the common run of young men, a coxcomb, would I tell you this, or more than this—that the