"Why, if you feel that the plea sure of a good action destroys its merit, and that you ought to be perpetually punishing yourself, you ought-don't think I am laughing— to abstain from it, and deny yourself the pleasure." "I fear, my dear friend, that the subject of which our more outward acts are a small part is somewhat larger than you are at present aware. At some more fitting time any humble aid I can give you in studying it shall be at your service. At this moment-unless your engagements call you elsewhere 66 Not the least-not at all." "Then I should like to say a word or two about a member of my own family." Lady Elvedon became earnest in a moment. More earnest, perhaps, than the intimation seemed to warrant. The relationship of those who have been introduced to the reader has been pretty nearly explained by themselves in the course of conversation. Lady Elvedon was the widow of a deceased nobleman, whose single recommendation to her family had been a title to which he lent only the negative lustre of an inoffensive life. He had himself succeeded, most unexpectedly, to his peerage, and having been poor and stupid until fifty, he was rich and stupid until sixty, when the Elvedon mausoleum received him. She was left with a handsome jointure, and had enjoyed several years of an independence which she was in no hurry to resign. The Honourable Reginald Wingfield was a nephew, not of Lady Elvedon née Perceval, but of her husband. The lady and the young soldier were much attached; the aunt had seen the Eton boy through a dangerous fever; and the sincere but undemonstrative affection of the cavalry man for her was very creditable to both. He was engaged to Violet, the daughter of the wealthy banker, and their marriage had been fixed for the close of the season. Georgiana Perceval, of whose waywardness some sign has been already given, was the niece of Lady Elvedon herself, and was the daughter of a country clergyman, who had fulfilled the duties of his calling with much private reluctance but public exemplariness, until he came into the possession of considerable family property, when he trebled his curate's stipend, quadrupled his own library, and shut himself up to collate the Seven before Thebes, a work of his early love, but which he had been obliged to lay aside for the unworthy occupation of tending the souls of Suffolk peasants. It happened to occur to him one morning, as he was working with heraldic conscientiousness at the Inscriptions on the Shields, that there was a pretty girl of seventeen running rather wild about his house; and as her mother was dead, and as he was her father, it seemed to behove him to take some care of her future. This troubled him, and for several days the Seven made little progress with the siege, when he bethought him of his sister, and wrote to seek her assistance. Mr. Perceval really loved the merry-eyed, golden. haired Georgiana, but from the tone of his letter it might have been surmised that she had done him a wrong in coming across his mind. The goodnatured Lady Elvedon, herself childless, resolved to relieve him of his affliction, and without formally adopting the little lady, took her under protection, and Miss Perceval had resided with her aunt for about two years at the commencement of our story. In all this there was nothing to justify a certain uneasiness which took possession of Lady Elvedon at the banker's last speech. She could not, however, refuse an audience to one who had just behaved so graciously to herself, and therefore having managed to secure a seat where the light did not fall very strongly upon her face, she awaited Mr. Aubrey's communication. It is to be hoped-perhaps supposed-that the younger couple in the conservatory bore their exile with more composure. CHAPTER III. "I think, dear Lady Elvedon, that the best compliment I can pay you, or, shall I use a less worldly expression, and say that the best course I can take is to imitate the frankness with which you were so kind as to speak to me a few minutes since?" "Pray do, Mr. Aubrey." "I need not say to you that the union of the two young people in my little green-house there gratifies a warm wish of my heart. It would be late in the day for me to dwell upon the happiness which I hope I have found for my child in her being united to the husband she has chosen. You know his goodness even better than I do." "He is a noble fellow," said Lady Elvedon, "and I am all the prouder that you have found it out, because he certainly does himself no justice. He is-I don't know why I should not say it he is certainly not to the world's eye the kind of man upon whom highly intellectual and energetic persons like yourself might be expected to look favourably." "There are things much better than either brain or energy," said Aubrey. He said it with an abruptness which made Lady Elvedon look at him in surprise. The speech came, evidently, from the heart." "Much better," repeated Aubrey, "and much more essential conditions of happiness." "Ah! you allude to serious subjects. But there again I fear poor Reginald, though the most kind and honorable of young men, wants the ideas which you consider so important." "I do not mean that," said Aubrey, less abruptly than before, but by no means in his usual tone. "I believe myself to have secured Violet's happiness far more by uniting her to a stupid, good-natured, right-minded young fellow, who loves her as earnestly as his intellect will allow, than if I had permitted her to choose a brilliant and ambitious man who would have done me far more credit." "Well, you are speaking frankly now, Mr. Aubrey, that is very certain. And I love Violet so heartily, that I will not quarrel with you, even for Reginald. He is not brilliant." "My dear lady, he is all I wish him. I say it as Violet's father-I would say the same were I his. But it was not of Reginald or of Violet that I wished to speak now, but of another member of our household." "I feared so," thought Lady Elvedon. "I have been so happy," said Aubrey, who had now entirely recovered his habitual manner," or rather I should say that Providence has so far blessed me, that my children give me their entire confidence, and submit to be guided by me in all matters in which I interfere. Violet will tell you whether I abuse my power, or even exert it with any sternness. I find myself obeyed, but I know that my children take pleasure in their obedience. You are aware what she is, and Charles, of whom you know less, is worthy to be her brother. I could hardly give him higher praise. He is my right hand in the business, and will be my partner, and, when it pleases God, my successor." "I rejoice to hear you speak of him so warmly," said Lady Elvedon. It was scarcely an appropriate answer to a father's praise of his son, but Lady Elvedon was not as composed as was her wont. "You then have a high opinion of him. This is very gratifying to me --more than gratifying." Lady Elvedon wondered why. "I have seen something-a good deal of him, lately," she said, “and it is impossible not to like him." "Ah!" said Aubrey, eagerly, " He has visited at your house frequently? He has not told me so, but I have observed that he has been out upon several occasions when I have not heard of an engagement." "I have seen a good deal of him," repeated Lady Elvedon. "I suppose that your feminine quickness, my dear lady, has already indicated to you the object of what I have been saying." "Indeed, no,” replied Lady Elvedon with some distress of manner. Usually we men are outrun by a lady's instincts, in such cases." I dare say you would be now," she replied, with a determined at tempt at vivacity, "if I had the slightest clue. "But you don't think, she continued, resolutely forcing a laugh, "that Charles has set his heart upon me. I know all my attractions, but I am not so vain as to think that. Even my money," she added, shaking her head mournfully, "when it is all spent in advance, is nothing to tempt the son of a great banker. I assure you that you are indulging false hopes." Mr. Aubrey looked at her with a deprecating smile. "I know that the world does jest upon such subjects, and perhaps harmlessly, though they involve interests too serious for jesting upon. But I am speaking of the welfare of an only son-may this be my excuse for some gravity?" "You are quite right, but the idea came upon me suddenly, and remember that at my time of life a woman has seldom the chance of even making a mistake about an offer." "At my time of life," he replied, touching her hand, " it would perhaps be worse than absurd for me to assure a lady of the endurance of her good looks." "Not at all," said Lady Elvedon, who was desirous to delay, by any means in her power, a revelation which she dreaded. "For besides your being a person of whose good opinion any woman might be proud, I would, of course, sooner hear my praises from any one who has had experience, than from a younger admirer. So, if you feel inclined to make me any pretty speeches, rely upon their being gracefully accepted." "Where's that jeweller?" she mut tered to herself. "I would gladly give another bracelet to Violet, if something or somebody would interrupt her papa at this moment." "No," said Mr. Aubrey, "I will not try to bribe Lady Elvedon to listen favourably to what I have to say." "That is downright rude. A bribe means an improper payment. Now I only ask for praises which I suppose myself richly to deserve." He smiled patiently, as one who could endure, but would relent no more, and Lady Elvedon felt that she must resign herself to hear what it pleased him to say. "I will put my question in the plainest way a man of business can do. Suppose, my dear lady, that your amiable niece, Miss Perceval, should apprise you that Charles, with his father's approbation, had sought her affections, what would your answer be ?" "I should box her ears and send her off to Suffolk by the next train," said Lady Elveden in reckless despair. "Would Charles be so very objectionable to you, then, as a connexion," said Mr. Aubrey, who looked upon this as a mere little outbreak of female petulance, to which it was necessary to pay the homage of a few courteous remarks while the 66 fit should pass away. "I have told you of his prospects, and you have told me how well he deserves them." Georgiana, indeed," said Lady Elvedon; "she is as fit to be married as I am to go down stairs and take the control of your business." "She is young, but only a year younger than Violet." "In years, but six years younger in knowledge and self-control." "She might be kindly but firmly helped to both by those around her." Lady Elvedon made no immediate answer, but after a pause and some thought said "I will speak plainly. Georgiana is perfectly aware of certain views which I have for her. She might cross those views upon which I have set my heart. If she should--no, I will ask you this question, and although it is making you judge in your own cause, I know that I shall have a just and candid answer. Suppose that she, knowing my views, should come to me and say that it was not in her power to carry them out--that she had, for instance, engaged herself solemnly to your son— what ought my conduct to be? You are known for a just man, Mr. Aubrey; answer me in accordance with your character.” "I will endeavour to do so, Lady Elvedon," he replied, "and without pausing to express the disappointment your answer has given me, because I hope to induce you to reconsider a matter which you may then see as I do." "Be that as it may, tell me what course I should adopt.” Aubrey, to whom Georgiana's wil "Yes-yes." "If my son, then, were to make such a communication to me, my first step would be to forgive him." "To forgive him," said Lady Elvedon, with sparkling eyes. "To forgive him," repeated Aubrey; "for I never punish a wrong against myself. I am too well aware that I have merited too much punishment at another's hand, and it has been withheld." Lady Elvedon listened with a delight she could hardly conceal. 66 I should also feel that it was not for me, by the display of personal anger, to add bitterness to the ruin of his prospects in this transitory world." "Ruin ?" "All that is ours in this life, Lady Elvedon, is ours in trust, and we are responsible for its administration, and for the character of those to whom we confide it. An ungrateful and disobedient son is no person for a father to entrust with the wealth and influence which God has committed in charge to him. I should provide such a son with means that should preserve him against the temptations of want (though want is no excuse for yielding to sin), but we should cease to be even acquaintances." "And in that spirit," gasped Lady Elvedon, "you would have me answer Georgiana." "It will never, I hope, be necessary that you should do so. I perceive that she has given you some cause for vexation, and I will at once forbear to pursue the subject; but when you have disembarrassed it of what now troubles you, will you allow me to return to my proposal?" Lady Elvedon slightly bowed, which was sufficiently satisfactory to Mr. Aubrey, and the person from Hancock's was announced. "I will leave our young people to your counsel, my dear lady. I am not very learned in such matters, but as I should not like to be quite forgotten, may I ask you to lay this out in some trifle for Violet, according to your own excellent discretion." He placed a twenty-pound note in her hand, and was going towards the conservatory, when Violet hastened out to meet him, saying, joyously, "Reginald says that he has ordered one thing so pretty that I must be in love with it. I do want to see that, papa, and the jeweller is come." She placed his arm affectionately around her waist. "Gently, darling Violet, gently. We must not let comparative trifles over-interest us. Let us manifest selfcommand, love, even in our smallest actions." And, kissing her white forehead, and receiving as affectionate a look as his own, he left the room. A Fortuitous Concurrence of Atoms, 631. Angler, The, and his Friend; or Piscatory Army, The Prussian, 189. Art-Treasures, The Manchester Exhibition Atlas-system of Mr. Keith Johnston, The, 49. Boswell, 359. Boswell, Letters of James, addressed to Brooks, Shirley, The Partners, Chap. i. 751; Cambridge Essays, by Members of the Uni- Castle of Dublin, Chap. i. 259; Chap. ii. China, Travelling in, 216. Chinese and their Rebellions, by Thomas T. Chinese Empire, The, by M. Huc, reviewed, Clerical Life in Ireland, 300. Collins, Mortimer, The Organist, 545. Contemplative Man's Recreation, The, 657. Cork, The Bishop of, Dr. Fitzgerald, 416. Culloden, by G. W. Thornbury, 198. Davis, Francis, Sonnets, 398; Progress, 564; Davy, John, M.D., F.R.S., The Angler and Doctor of Philosophy, Chap. iii. 35; Chap. Education, Newman on University, 334. Essays, Oxford and Cambridge, reviewed, 25 Fisheries, Reports of the Commissioners of Fitzgerald, Dr., Bishop of Cork, 416, Flowers, by Francis Davis, 677. Germany, Life in, 347. Glencore, The Fortunes of, Chap. xli. an History, The Cardinal Treaties of Modern |