"Well, I acknowledge she is beautiful, though her hair is red!" said the lady, with spirit.

Her husband laughed; her brother smiled a little. "You shall call it by what name you please; but I am afraid you will find that she is accustomed to think it her very best point. Now, your girls, Clarissa, have such splendid complexions, that their hair

"It is not so red as your new beauty's!" interrupted the mother.

'No, my dear; that is its defect. It is too yellow," said

Morton.

"Don't tease her about the girls' hair! Don't fret about such a trifle, Clarry! If they can't get husbands here on account of their red hair, we will take them to Spain, where this defect will be their greatest charm. In the eyes of the hidalgos, red hair, you know, is a mark of pure Gothic blood, and is the greatest beauty a woman can have."

"Clarissa, I promise you that when I am Premier, Fortescue shall have the embassy to Madrid.-I can't do more than that for my red-haired nieces!"

"If I were Premier, you should have an embassy to Coventry!" said Lady Fortescue, without a grain of bitterness. She really liked her disagreeable brother.

CHAPTER X.

AN EVENING AT RABY HOUSE-MARGARET'S FIRST SIGHT OF THE

FASHIONABLE WORLD.

"We shall come too late.

Romeo. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives,

Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels."

Romeo and Juliet.

"An uninitiated man cannot take upon himself to portray the great world accurately, and had best keep his opinions to himself, whatever they are."

Vanity Fair.

"Notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running-
Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony."

L'Allegro.

Do my readers remember that I have mentioned the family of the Greys-the Greys of Langford Grange, near Carleton? Mrs. Grey was present at my Aunt Margaret's christening, and poured a flood of provincial scandal upon Miss Price. Then, there was my grandfather's pupil, her son William, surnamed Brutus by my aunt, and his elder brother, a captain in the Guards. There was his sister, the showy, accomplished Carlotta, and the père de famille, John Grey, Esq.The Greys were a good old county family, perfectly well connected, given to hospitality, and to thinking of themselves a great deal more highly than they ought to think,—after the manner of narrow-minded people everywhere, and of the country gentry especially, in our land of prejudice, pride, and property qualifications.

Carlotta Grey and Sophia Hastings had formed a violent friendship, based on a certain similarity in character, and a marked difference in personal appearance. Sophia was really pretty, with regular features and an elegant figure. Carlotta, on the contrary, was not pretty, nor very winning, but

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extremely dashing. She had a large figure; indeed, fastidious persons said it was too large; but as Miss Carlotta had no misgivings on the subject herself, and bared her white shoulders in the most intrepid style-challenging, as it were, all the county to produce anything finer in that line-all the county took her at her own valuation, and pronounced her to be a monstrous fine woman,' or as the equally elegant phrase of our day is, "a stunner." In temperament, Carlotta was active and jovial; Sophia, lazy and sentimental; in conversation, Sophia displayed the English talent for silence, while Carlotta piqued herself upon talking with fashionable volubility "a leash of languages at once." She had been six months in Paris, and had " swum in a gondola," on the strength of which she displayed her knowledge of French and Italian as confidently as she exhibited her neck and shoulders.

The grand desire of both these young ladies was to become women of fashion; Carlotta had better prospects than Sophia, and generously promised to forward her friend's interests in the world. I may as well add, that their friendship was knit more closely together by mutual confidences touching certain fancies which invaded their girlish repose at the age of sixteen. Sophia had a penchant for the handsome Lord Merle, and Carlotta nourished in heart something like love for Sophia's brother, "gentle Jamie." They talked together of these affairs, and advised and pitied one another; but after a year or two, they began to take a practical view of life, and were a little ashamed of having been so foolish. Carlotta spent a season in London, and in the following autumn a great banker, who was about to buy an estate near the Greys, and who wanted Mr. Grey's interest to return him for the county, came down on a visit to Langford Grange, and proposed for Carlotta. Mr. Harrington was forty years old, and wore a wig. Carlotta was not twenty, and had shadowy hopes that "gentle Jamie" might awake some day to a sense of her charms. But then she had waited three years for the fulfilment of those hopes, and even Sophia

thought nothing would come of it. Mr. Harrington was handsome, malgré ses quarante ans, and had a fine house in Cavendish Square, and a park in Surrey-and was going to buy the Bloomfield estate, and be member for the county.

"So, upon the whole, Sophy, my child," said the bouncing belle to her bosom friend, "I think I shall oblige papa and mamma, and marry him! What's the use of making a fuss about these things? One must be married, you know! I would rather have married for love if I could, but if I can't marry for love, I will for fashion. I know my own mind, ma petite. I would-yes, really, I would, have lived in the country on a small income all my days with your brother; but, carissima, with no one else! Puisque cela m'est defendu, I take the next best thing. I'll marry a good sort of a gentleman, whom I don't at all dislike, and I'll live in London and go to Court, and do tout ce qu'il me plaira. You shall come and see me, and forget, in the succès you will assuredly have, the bei occhi of un certo giovine ingrato."

The silent Sophia approved of her friend's good sense; and appeared so transcendently lovely as bridesmaid, in white silk and point lace (a present from Carlotta), that young Sidney Russell, one of the groom's-men, fell desperately in love with her on the Harringtons' wedding-day. Carlotta contrived to let Lord Carleton know that young Russell only wanted an assurance of his lordship's goodwill towards him, to propose for the Rev. Henry Hastings' daughter, and to marry her immediately. Lord Carleton sent for the young man, and engaged him as his private secretary, promising that, if he had merit, he should not want favour. Sidney Russell knew that the place and the promise were to be all Sophia's portion, and as his friends did not think it a bad one, they expedited the match.

My grandfather had no idea that the Earl of Carleton had any hand in securing his daughter so satisfactory a husband; he believed that it was entirely a love match! Whether Lord Carleton knew anything of his son Merle's juvenile flirtation with Sophia, whether Sidney Russell knew of it,

and whether Sophia thought her beauty only had won her the hand of a cadet of a noble house-this deponent sayeth not.

On the evening when these ladies are about to be introduced to the reader, one had been married four and the other three years; they had both improved in manners and appearance, and were still the best friends in the world. They were seated in Mrs. Harrington's drawing-room in Cavendish Square, so very splendidly dressed that it was clear they were going to exhibit themselves elsewhere than in the bosom of domestic life.

“How very late the girl is! I really will not wait more than a quarter of an hour longer! What time is it now, William ?"

A large, heavy young man, who looked like a well-padded guardsman buttoned up by mistake in a clerical coat, proceeded to draw out a watch of the period from its abidingplace. The act was certainly not rapidly performed.

"How slow you are, William! Is it half-past nine yet?" "No, Carlotta; it is exactly five-and-twenty minutes past nine, by the Guards.”

“And Lady Fortescue told us not to be late, or we should miss the entrée of the Prince and the royal Dukes! If she were not your sister, Sophia, I really would not wait!"

“I dare say it is not her fault. She never was behindhand formerly," said Mr. William Grey, yawning, and then settling his cravat.

“Ah, juste ciel! There is a carriage at last!—It must be Margaret! Are you quite ready, Sophia ?-William, just knock at Mr. Harrington's door, and say we are going, and that I expect him to come home with us.”

William's long legs had scarcely measured the space from the fireplace to the door, when he was met face to face by some one entering hurriedly. This event seemed to put his sister's commission out of his head. It was young Margaret Hastings.

“I am very sorry, Mrs. Harrington; but something un