CHAPTER III.

"To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art;
Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play,
The soul adopts, and owns their free-born sway;
Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind,
Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined.

But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,
With all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd,
In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain;
And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy?"
GOLDSMITH.

THE next morning, when Lady Emily prepared to rise, a beautiful bouquet was brought to her bed-side. "Oh the dear delicious flowers," she said, inhaling their fragrance; "who can have made me this charming and

most welcome present? who brought it?" call

ing her maid.

"A little boy, your Ladyship.”

"Are

you sure it is for me ?"

"The boy said so, my Lady; besides, there is a card that you have not observed tied to the stalks."

Lady Emily looked at it. In a very illegible hand was written "For Lady Emily Lorimer." "I cannot imagine who should so far have consulted my tastes," she said, but her heart throbbed at the secret thought that it might be Lord Mowbray. It is necessary to be a woman, and a woman in love, and, moreover, a woman in love with flowers, to know all the witchery which resides in them. The full force of all these things was confessed by Lady Emily; and when the hour arrived at which she was to prepare for the ball, at Roehampton, she had recourse to these simple ornaments as her only decoration. The gown her sister had sent her in exchange for her own, could not compare with it in beauty or magnificence; but in its rich materials and perfect simplicity,

there was a grace not less distinguished, than had it been covered with ornaments.

The General, however, when he looked at her with delighted eyes, demanded the reason why she had discarded her dress of the preceding evening; and she was obliged to relate the circumstance which had induced her to resign it. How the knowledge of this enhanced her loveliness in the General's estimation! and with what affectionate warmth he pressed her to his heart, and blessed her, as he said, "Go, my precious girl! go, and in all the reflected beauty of your soul shining through your person; go, and enjoy the innocent triumph which awaits you. I grieve that I cannot accompany you; but, circumstanced as I am, you will understand, my Emily, that it is impossible."

"It is a bitter disappointment to me that it should be so, but I only wish you to do whatever you feel to be best. Good, good-night, dear uncle; good-night, Alpinia."

Mrs. Neville was punctual to a moment, and away they drove; but the impatience of the latter made her stop the carriage many times

before they reached Hyde Park Corner, to know what a clock it was, lest, as she said, they should be too late.

They arrived, however, in good time, and entered the grounds by a gate which was metamorphosed into a triumphal arch, most brilliantly illuminated and decorated with various devices. The lamps, the flowers, the train of servants in rich liveries, the crowds of guests in fancy costumes, formed a splendid scene.

The ball-room had been erected in the gardens, and was blazing with lights, and gay with a profusion of ornaments in the best taste. On entering, Lady Emily distinguished Lord Mowbray leaning against one of the pillars.

The moment he perceived her, with an eagerness of manner wholly unlike his usual demeanour, he came towards her; and, on Mrs. Neville's expressing her surprize at his being still in town, he said-" Business called me away, but pleasure detained me."

"Well, to be sure, that is charming-so you really tell the truth at last; but I never believyou when you said you were going; it is

ed

beyond belief how I can read characters; it is vastly diverting, vastly charming, quite charming, I assure you."

"You are an alarming person then, Mrs. Neville, to be intimate with; I shall take care in future how I venture to lay myself open to your animadversions."

"What, have you any deadly secrets, then? -Well, to be sure, I was always afraid there was some mystery or another about you. Now, to tell the truth, I don't like mysteries, except in story books, and even in them I always look at the last page first. Don't you think that's charming. Well, to be sure, I would always advise everybody to do that in real life-turn to the last leaf of your story, provide for that, and all will be well. Ah! who do I see there?

Mr. Altamont, I vow! How do you do, my dear Mr. Altamont? Don't you agree with me in what I was saying just now ?"

"Most entirely, my dear Madam, I really thought I was talking myself.”

"Well, charming, charming! that is beyond belief; but I must present you to my young