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polite inuendo. Oh, for the days of our grandmothers; when politeness was as indispensable to a gentleman, as his sword and queue.'

"I suspect our revered grandmothers would have been shocked at our degeneracy, had they come forth and seen our proceedings to day," said Helen, anxious to prevent a reply from Dormer, and restore good humour to all. "For my

part, I am as shocked at myself, as my grandmother could have been for me, at laughing so unmercifully at poor Mrs. Jones.'

"Indeed! Well, I think Mr. Dormer's superb look at her want of penetration was sufficient excuse! But pray why did you linger behind then, if not to enjoy the scene a little longer ?"

"You know me better, Catherine."

"What! did Miss Propriety stay behind then to make amends for our evil deeds?"

"Very much like it, despite your laughter."

"And you give her a dinner as a peace offering?

If I had not such a canaille-phobia, I would assist at the entertainment."

"Thank you! but in that case it might be more piquante than would suit the simple tastes of my guests."

"So really, dear good girl! you have had the magnanimity to become the scape-goat for our offences. But are you quite sure your good resolves will not evaporate in the course of time, and that you will not take to your bed on the fatal day?"

"Mock as you please: you will neither move me to anger or change."

"Change! Not even an opinion? Did you ever change in your life?" turning round, and fixing her penetrating eyes on her face.

"Yes, my dear,-colour, more than twice for you; when your impertinence has become intolerable."

For once, the piercing eyes of Catherine fell beneath the steady gaze of her friend, if friends they could be called, but recovering herself instantly, she said, assuming an air of superiority: "Courage, ma chere petite! with a few more of my instructions you really may become a witling. I had no idea you could have uttered any thing so severe, and begin to have hopes of you."

"Would I could say the same for you!" said Helen gaily and kindly, for the feeling that had roused her to check her

impertinence had been subdued, and the irony of her compa"Votre pauvre petite has no ambition

nion wounded her not.

to become a witling; so you need not dread a rival."

Again Catherine fixed her penetrating eyes on her friend's face; but all there was calm, lovely, and open; and she turned again to her brother. Alford, lithograph the scene of Helen appeasing those intolerables."

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"I dare not. Helen has already given me one long lecture, and I have promised to be a good boy for the future. Enough that Helen looked like an angel; I like a fool; and Mrs. and Miss Jones forgot the demolition of glass, china, &c. even your laughter and Dormer's disdain, whilst listening to her dulcet tones. The only laughable thing, for la belle Susanne felt and looked but did not speak, was, that poor Mrs. Jones made such a lowly reverence I feared she would never rise again."

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“Do you mean to become as demure as herself?"

"No fear of that, my piquante sister: it required all her admonishing looks to keep me from sentimentalising whilst she played l'aimable."

"And on what plea did she blame you?"

"Rather a reasonable one, though not of the newest fash

ion.

'Be you to others kind and true,
As you'd have others be to you;
And neither say, nor do to men,

Whate'er you would not take again.'

Thus runs the old lay, if I remember, that we used to repeat in our days of innocence."

"Pshaw! I have laid all such old saws aside with my sampler; only to be brought forth again for the edification of some future nephew and niece. Take care! or Helen may remind you of another old saw. precept.'

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That example is better than

"Then I must furnish her with a modern instance to the contrary."

"But pray, has she convinced you of the unpardonable guilt of laughing at the follies of others?"

"She convinced me, at least for the time, of the impropriety of nourishing and increasing those follies for our amusement; and spoke so eloquently, and pleaded so sweetly, that I have half made a vow to encourage wisdom rather than and to seek to reform, rather than ridicule.”

folly;

"Oh, then 'Othello's occupation's gone!' and you will soon

become as complete a precieuse ridicule as your reprover." "Hear Helen for herself."

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No, I thank you! one lecture for one day is surely enough;" and striking her horse, it started into a canter.

Alford's steed, unwilling to be outdone, followed; and He. len, unexpectedly, and much against her inclination, found her. self alone with Mr. Dormer; and, before her horse could change its pace, his hand was on her rein.

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Why is Miss St. Maur so careful to spare the feelings of all but one? Why is he alone to be unforgiven? Is this just?"

There was an earnestness in this appeal, which surprised and confused her; but she tried to answer with carelessness. "This is rather a grave charge, and I am not inclined to allow its justice; but, if I were so, what can you expect from one of that sex, who are more changeable than change itself." "Here is proof of the justice of my charge," and he coloured highly;" whilst you forget or disregard the idle words of others, you remember with displeasure all of mine. Why is that one alone to be unforgiven ?”

"What if that one have more deeply offended?"

"But what if he have repented more deeply still?"

"Will you avouch he has done so ?"

"Will you forgive him, if I so avouch? Surely his offence was not so heinous ?"

"Do you plead for justice or forgiveness, Mr. Dormer?" The altered tone of this last question startled him.

There was a moment's struggle, but pride yielded; and he replied in a deep earnest voice: "For forgiveness! Will you not grant it?"

"It is granted!" she said in a low sweet voice, turning away from those bright eyes that spoke their thanks.

Before she was aware her hand was pressed between both his; but the next moment she had given her horse the rein, and, followed by Dormer, was hastening to rejoin the party. "Were I any one but Lady Catherine Alford, I should envy you that brilliant colour, Helen. How did you get it? was it the ride? or have the gentlemen been doing the gallant?"

"Either one you please," replied Alford, marking the increased glow on his favourite's cheek, whilst Helen entered the house, trying to appear as though she had not heard the question.

CHAPTER VII.

To woman, whose best books are human hearts,
Wise heaven a genius less profound imparts.
His awful! Her's is lovely; his should tell
How thunderbolts, and her's how roses fell.
Her rapid mind decides while he debates,
She feels a truth that he but calculates.
He, provident, averts approaching ill,
She snatches present good with ready skill.
That active perseverance his, which gains,
And her's that passive patience which sustains.
Winds shatter oaks, while osiers wave secure;
Seas waste the rock, while yielding sands endure;
And gentle woman, to her fate resigned,
Prevails o'er woes that vanquish stern mankind.

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THE storm of the morning was but the forerunner of the storm of the evening. The air became oppressive-vivid flashes of lightning lit up the most distant corners of the large apartment—and made the room appear one blaze of liquid flame. The roar of the thunder followed almost instantaneously on the flash of the lightning-the wind moaned in hollow gusts among the trees, yet scarcely moved the heavy black clouds that obscured the sky-large drops fell occa sionally, with a dull plashing sound-and the whole scene was as sublime as a summer storm could be. Helen sat at one of the windows watching its awful beauty.

"How comes this?" said Catherine, who had been looking at her for some time. "I thought you were no admirer of

storms."

"You are mistaken then; I admire nature under every form. 'Looking through nature up to nature's God.'

"I fancied I had heard you declaim, more than once, on the calm beauty of a placid summer's evening.'

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"Very likely; for, though I may delight in Scott, surely may admire Milton also."

"Very intellectually answered, but I suspect you like change as well as your neighbours."

"I have no doubt I find variety as charming as others."

"I do not clearly comprehend the distinction between change and variety. Do you mean to say you equally admire the storm and the sunshine? and think one heightens the beauty of the other?"

"Yes!" answered Helen, carelessly, too much absorbed in contemplating the beauty of the scene without, to pay much attention to her companion within.

"I thought as much," said Catherine ironically. "In that case you need not have been so indignant at my asking if you could change."

"In what case, Catherine? I don't understand you."

"Not the accusative; so you need not colour like a milkmaid; but the possessive, I conclude, to judge by what I saw when I looked back to discover if you and Mr. Percy Dormer were following. Nay, never look foolish! if young gentlemen will do such things, how can young ladies prevent them ?" "If I blush, Lady Catherine, it is for you more than my. self," replied Helen, roused by her words. "I despise hints and insinuations, and this will not be our first quarrel on that subject. If you have any thing to ask, ask it—any thing to say, say it, but play not the secret assassin-wound not in the dark.'

For some moments the two young women stood fronting each other, looking as though to read the inmost thoughts. The gaze of both was steady and unshrinking, yet was neither free from emotion. Helen would have served Catherine to her power's extent; rarely retorted, and never intentionally wounded; but though she had been her playfellow from childhood, she could never feel any confidence in her. Catherine's feelings towards her, to judge from her conduct, were scarcely so friendly, but then she was always enigmatical.

Though Catherine generally assumed an air of superiority over her companion, who, conscious of her own powers, rarely resented her domineering tone; she had found more than once, if roused to exertion, there was a calm dignity, a candour and firmness about Helen, that always gave her the mastery over her opponent. These trials of power were never sought by Helen, and had of late been rather avoided by Catherine; who, warned by former defeats, kept within some bounds, but now it seemed as though some motive, far more strong than usual, had urged her on till retreat was almost impossible. The same feeling, whatever it might be, banished her usual tone of cool but bitter irony, and rendered her whole manner passionate and impetuous.

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