with whom my humour was not doubtful at all. I therefore staid behind, listening to the music, and chewing indeed the cud of bitter fancy. The certainty that her cousin was dancing with her maddened me; and the apprehension that she was smiling upon him did not restore me.

Twice I went in, and progressed half-way up the room. Twice I returned, afraid to encounter them. On my third essay, I saw Mr. Mansell leading her down the dance, and, to my great delight, he danced abominably ill. Could I fail to recollect the happy time when, at Foljambe, she was so amused by the lessons which she insisted should be given to Charles and me; how playfully she laughed at his endeavours, and how often commended mine?

I confess the envy with which I now saw Mansell was consoled by the thought, that if I had been in his place, I could at least have done her more justice. Presently, indeed, his awkwardness was so great, he was so out in the figure and in the time, that in very hopelessness of his getting right, and annoyed at his being an object of criticism by the spectators, she said, though with good-nature, "perhaps we had better sit down." The discomfited youth was too glad to do so, and led her to the first sofa that offered, which happened (strange chance, I thought,) to be the one on which I was sitting.

It was scarce possible for her not to greet me, had she been disinclined to do so. But she was not disinclined, and gave me both looks and words, which haunted me all night afterwards. The reserve of the

morning seemed completely gone.

With her own

frankness, she said she was glad I had come to the ball, which (O! how I marked and treasured the words!) she was afraid I would not do. What could possibly make her afraid? What did it signify to her whether I came or not? These were questions that

did not fail to offer themselves all the while she was speaking, and covered me with blushes of I know not what import, except that it was one of happiness. But when she went on to remind me of our little dancing lessons at the park, and hoped I had not lost the Highland fling, I felt a tumult of pleasure, proceeding, I fear, in some measure from vanity, but also, I am sure, from feelings far more pure. Altogether they were indescribable, nor, were I to live my years over again, could I ever forget the arch and frank expression of her whole air, manner, and voice, in which those reminiscences were conveyed.

How was this? and why, if every word she uttered was no more than what any other person in the same situation might have used-why was I left by it in almost a trance of emotion? So, however, it has been from the beginning of time, and will be to the end of it. All can feel-none analyze-the wayward movements which the wayward passion that engrossed me can assume. What brought me to my senses, which for a moment I seemed to have lost, was the effect which this little raillery had upon the cousin, who looked proud, mortified, and angry, yet did not on that account escape a scolding for his awkwardness, and depriving her of her dance; "for which," said

she, "at your desire I have rebelled against all propriety and Mademoiselle La Porte. Upon my word, if I were you, I would discharge my tutor, with whom you say you make such progress, and take a dancing master, a much better tutor, in his stead; at least if, as you say you do, you wish to please the ladies. There is Mr. Clifford now, who hardly ever had a lesson except the one at Foljambe, which I have been talking of, yet he never made a blunder in the figure, much less murdered the time. But there is papa; I must go and make him get me another partner, for I positively won't sit still all the evening."

So saying, she sprang up to meet Mr. Hastings, who was coming down the room with the sheriff, and by her gestures and arch looks at us, indicated that she was shewing up her cousin to his father and uncle. Whether she mentioned me, or how, if she did, I would have just given all I was worth to know, though that was not much.

Young Mansell, never very sweet-tempered, now looked sourness itself. The very slight introduction to him which I had had in the morning would have left me with no wish to claim his acquaintance, but if it had, it was evident he had no wish to accord it, and I indulged it by leaving him in full possession of his sofa. There he shouldered every body that came near him, and exhibited every mark of spleen, so ridiculously, that though the son of the sheriff, and I of a decayed gentleman, I thought I would not have exchanged situations with him.

In truth, this and the enchantment thrown about me by the condescending recollection of Bertha filled me with a pride of self-respect and independence, for which I was all the better. It was now, however, put to a severe trial, for in five minutes I perceived Foljambe with his discarded cousin arm in arm, and apparently in deep conference, and after often turning his eyes to me, he separated from Mansell to accost me, which at first gave me pleasure. Soon, however, I found the Christ Church leaven had returned, in an altered manner, and so altered a tone, that I felt hurt and confounded.

Having not over civilly said "I did not know you came to these places, especially as you do not seem to have any acquaintances here," he went on to tell me that he supposed, from what he heard had been passing, I meant to ask his sister to dance; "and I only think it right to tell you," added he, observing my unfeigned surprise, "that you will not succeed if you do, and had therefore better not propose it. To be fair with you, my father will not be pleased, and as she has declared she cannot dance any more with her cousin, I have just engaged her to my friend Sir Harry Melford, for whom she is waiting at the top of the room."

Sir Harry Melford was a fashionable young man of five-and-twenty. He had been one of the ornaments both of Eton and Christ Church, in scholarship far above mediocrity, and in all his exercises much renowned. With much cultivation of mind, he had strong passions, which he concealed by great decorum

of manner, so that they never seemed to plunge him into excesses. The chief of them was a warm devotion to the ladies, which, with an uncommon fine person, and most insinuating address, enabled him so far to indulge it with success, that he was thought by most ladies irresistible.

His figure, title, and estate, added to this disposition of his, made him a very redoubtable personage with the sex; nor was his popularity diminished with either man or woman for being perfectly well-bred. No one, therefore, could say (not Mr. Hastings himself) that he was not a proper partner for Mr. Hastings' daughter: nor did Mr. Hastings' son think him by any means an improper companion for himself.

But this, I thought, gave no right to Charles to address me as he did, especially as his seeming fear of my presumptuous intentions, instilled into him, no doubt, by Mansell, was the reverse of founded. Of this I informed him in a tone as distant as his ownindeed, with a sort of haughty indifference, under the guise of an assumed humility, surprising to myself as well as to him.

"I beg to tell you, Foljambe," said I, "in the first place, that you have been most grossly misinformed, for I never had the intention, much less the actual presumption, to present myself as a partner to your sister. Nor need you have been so careful to remind me that I am still the very humble person she, as well as yourself, once condescended to notice. Your fear, therefore, that I should even attempt to stand in the way of your friend, Sir Harry, is at least ground