Armadale. Far more difficult to disguise was her carriage and bearing; so much too full of graceful fierté for a poor relative or humble dependant. Her simple costume only set off her beauty: it seemed as if the dullest observer must detect the truth in the crested head, the commanding brow, the full dark eye and lashes, that had never yet drooped before that of another-especially when seen by the side of her placid and unassuming companion. So thought Antoine, though he discreetly kept his thoughts to himself: wondering in silence whether the English rustics would be so blind as to take a medlar for a golden pippin, or a handful of raisins for a cluster of sunny grapes.

CHAPTER II.

This is not flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.

SHAKESPEARE.

E must now transport our readers to the
Grange, -shire, the residence of John
Crawford, Esq. and of his amiable wife,

and lovely, but large family: in whose domestic circle had much commotion been kindled by the expected arrival of the heiress. John Crawford, Esq. himself, good, easy man, when he consented to the invitation, from a true English respect for an individual whose name stood so well with the money market, little dreamed of the inroads it would make in his comfort and peace. From that happy hour, when an elegant envelope, whose perfume had survived even the Post Office and the post-man, conveyed to Mrs. C. the intelligence, that "hers sincerely, Margaret Armadale, would have great pleasure in accepting her kind invitation, and would be with them in a week," Mr. Crawford's sun was behind a cloud. Such arranging such cleaning up-such uncovering of hollanded furniture-such refreshing of carpets-such

invasion of his privacy-such forcible expulsion of his dogs he seemed to live in an atmosphere of dust, or to be under the influence of some foul enchanter. Nothing was in its usual place, or appeared likely to be stationary anywhere: nobody was at leisure to attend either to his wants or his whims, which were many and in sheer desperation he betook himself to the stable, and stayed there the greater part of the day. Mrs. Crawford, meanwhile, one of those active, useful ladies who scorn the services of a house-keeper, had her hands full of work, and her head full of schemes. Having ascertained pretty clearly the immense wealth of Miss Armadale; that she was unshackled by guardians or engagements, and that excepting old Mr. Conroy, her trustee, she had no one whatever to control her, the idea naturally occurred to her mind, why not try and secure these advantages in the Crawford family?

"I flatter myself," thought the lady, as she sat in her bedroom, performing one of her multitudinous tasks for the adornment of her house-"I flatter myself, I can see through a girl's character as soon as any one I wish I knew her age: I fancy her quite young, but it does not much matter, I'll be bound to find the way to her heart, and perhaps help somebody else there. Let me see, there's Ferdinand, he comes first he's very handsome, but I'm sadly afraid he wont take pains enough to make himself agreeable : if he would only not think so much of his scents and curling irons, and his waistcoats and kid gloves, I

do think... but we shall see. Then there is Jackbut he always smells of the stable and his cigars, and he talks so loud, and will bring his odious pointers into the drawing-room-and there's Alfred, poor fellow! he'll go blushing and stumbling up against Miss Armadale, and ask after her father and mother, or make some horrid blunder or other, and keep me hot all over... No, as I thought at first, Nelson must be the one; he is a fine fellow, and the young lady must find it out."

As Mrs. Crawford reached this point, her eye glanced down into the garden, where two of the sons above mentioned were sauntering arm in arm. Never was a greater contrast than in these two: Nelson, the favourite, with ruddy cheeks, dark curly hair, the eye of a hawk, and the step of a deer: a bold rider -a keen shot-a first rate cricketer-the king of fun and frolic, and the ringleader of every sort of misrule: Alfred, commonly called "poor" Alfred: with chiselled transparent features, and drooping head:wasted in figure, pale of cheek, painfully shy, and inconveniently absent—a scholar and a genius, without the power of showing either: never seen in his proper character, because never at ease but when alone. Such were the brothers, at whom Mrs. Crawford looked wistfully for a few minutes—more minutes than she could afford just then, for the pleasure of admiring her favourite boy. "No girl could withstand such a face as that, if he chose to make advances :

and I must keep poor Alfred as much out of sight as possible, at least till it is all settled. Let me see — they might buy an estate very near us-there are two to be sold and there's Rockstone above all, the Armadale's old family seat: but bless me, I'm forgetting half I have to do: and those girls will never get on, unless I look after them."

Away went the busy lady, driving house-maids and helpers before her as a dog drives sheep, worrying their very lives out, all for their good:-till suddenly stopping short-"Susan!" "Yes ma'am." "Did I say anything to you about where Miss Armadale's companion was to sleep?"

"No, ma'am; only the lady's maid."

"Dear me, the girl must sleep somewhere, you know. I wish I knew exactly what to do. Here, Theodosia Judith! I want you!" Two young ladies answered the summons: both rather untidy, and covered with ravelling, ends of silk, and all the nameless litter attendant on the mysteries of millinery. “Did you call, mamma?" "My dears, I want your advice; I've only one good spare room, besides the one I must keep for your uncle Sym, at Christmas, and I don't know which to put in it, Miss Armadale's companion, or her lady's maid."

"Oh, mamma, the lady's maid," said Miss Theodosia. “What?” said Miss Judith, "the lady's maid before the lady?"

"A companion is not always a lady," observed her