myself: I long to see them as much as they to see me — perhaps more."

"Well, but it is such a short time."

"Nearly a fortnight by my computation; and, besides, I cannot bear the thoughts of a Christmas spent from home: and, moreover, my sister is going to be married.”

"Not till next month; but I want to be there to assist her in making preparations, and to make the best of her company while we have her."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I've only got the news in this letter, which you stigmatise as dull and stupid, and won't let me read."

"To whom is she to be married?"

"To Mr. Richardson, the vicar of a neighbouring parish." "Is he rich?"

"No; only comfortable."

"Is he handsome?"

"No, only decent."

"Young?"

"No; only middling."

"O mercy! what a wretch! What sort of a house is it?" "A quiet little vicarage, with an ivy-clad porch, an old fashioned garden, and

"Oh stop! - you 'll make me sick. How can she bear it?" "I expect she 'll not only be able to bear it, but to be very happy. You did not ask me if Mr. Richardson were a good, wise, or amiable man; I could have answered Yes, to all these questions at least so Mary thinks, and I hope she will not find herself mistaken."

"But-miserable creature! how can she think of spending her life there, cooped up with that nasty old man; and no hope of change?"

"He is not old: he 's only six or seven and thirty; and she herself is twenty-eight, and as sober as if she were fifty."

"Oh! that's better then

they 're well matched: but do

they call him the 'worthy vicar'?"

"I don't know; but if they do, I believe he merits the epithet."

"Mercy, how shocking! and will she wear a white apron, and make pies and puddings?"

"I don't know about the white apron, but I dare say she will make pies and puddings now and then; but that will be no great hardship, as she has done it before."

"And will she go about in a plain shawl, and a large straw bonnet, carrying tracts and bone soup to her husband's poor parishioners?"

"I'm not clear about that; but I dare say she will do her best to make them comfortable in body and mind, in accordance with our mother's example."

CHAPTER IX.

The Ball.

"Now, Miss Grey," exclaimed Miss Murray, immediately I entered the schoolroom, after having taken off my outdoor garments, upon returning from my four weeks' recreation, shut the door, and sit down, and I'll tell you all about the ball."

"Now

--

"No, - damn it, no!" shouted Miss Matilda. "Hold your tongue, can't ye? and let me tell her about my new mare such a splendour, Miss Grey! a fine blood mare—”

"Do be quiet, Matilda; and let me tell my news first." "No, no, Rosalie; you'll be such a damned long time over it she shall hear me first - I'll be hanged if she

does'nt!

"I'm sorry to hear, Miss Matilda, that you 've not got rid of that shocking habit yet."

"Well, I can't help it: but I'll never say a wicked word again, if you 'll only listen to me, and tell Rosalie to hold her confounded tongue."

Rosalie remonstrated, and I thought I should have been torn in pieces between them; but Miss Matilda having the loudest voice, her sister at length gave in, and suffered her to tell her story first: so I was doomed to hear a long account of her splendid mare, its breeding and pedigree, its paces, its action, its spirit, &c., and of her own amazing skill and courage in riding it; concluding with an assertion that she could clear a five-barred gate "like winking," that papa said she might hunt next time the hounds met, and mamma had ordered a bright scarlet hunting-habit for her.

"O, Matilda! what stories you are telling!" exclaimed her sister.

"Well," answered she, no whit abashed, "I know I could clear a five-barred gate, if I tried, and papa will say I may hunt, and mamma will order the habit when I ask it."

"Well, now get along," replied Miss Murray; “and do, dear Matilda, try to be a little more lady-like. Miss Grey, I wish you would tell her not to use such shocking words; she will call her horse a mare: it is so inconceivably shocking! and then she uses such dreadful expression in describing it: she must have learned it from the grooms. It nearly puts me into fits when she begins."

"I learned it from papa, you ass! and his jolly friends,” said the young lady, vigorously cracking a hunting-whip, which she habitually carried in her hand. "I'm as good a judge of horseflesh as the best of 'em."

"Well, now get along, you shocking girl! I really shall take a fit if you go on in such a way. And now, Miss Grey,

attend to me; I'm going to tell you about the ball. You must be dying to hear about it, I know. Oh, such a ball! You never saw or heard, or read, or dreamt of anything like it in all your life! The decorations, the entertainment, the supper, the music were indescribable! and then the guests! There were two noblemen, three baronets, and five titled ladies, and other ladies and gentlemen innumerable. The ladies, of course, were of no consequence to me, except to put me in a good humour with myself, by showing how ugly and awkward most of them were; and the best, mamma told me, the most transcendent beauties among them, were nothing to me. As for me, Miss Grey-I'm so sorry you didn't see me! I was charming-wasn't I, Matilda?"

"Middling."

--

"No, but I really was at least so mamma said- and Brown and Williamson. Brown said she was sure no gentleman could set eyes on me without falling in love that minute; and so I may be allowed to be a little vain. I know you think me a shocking, conceited, frivolous girl; but, then, you know, I don't attribute it all to my personal attractions: I give some praise to the hairdresser, and some to my exquisitely lovely dress - you must see it to-morrow-white gauze over pink satin — and so sweetly made! and a necklace and bracelet of be autiful, large pearls!"

"I have no doubt you looked very charming: but should that delight you so very much?"

"Oh, no! not that alone: but, then, I was so much admired; and I made so many conquests in that one night – you'd be astonished to hear

"But what good will they do you?"

"What good! Think of any woman asking that!"

"Well, I should think one conquest would be enough; and

too much, unless the subjugation were mutual."

"Oh, but you know I never agree with you on those points. Now, wait a bit, and I'll tell you my principal admirers those who made themselves very conspicuous that night and after for I've been to two parties since. Unfortunately the

two noblemen, Lord G – and Lord F —, were married, or I might have condescended to be particularly gracious to them; as it was, I did not: though Lord F-, who hates his wife, was evidently much struck with me. He asked me to dance with him twice - he is a charming dancer, by-the-bye, and so am I you can't think how well I did - I was astonished at myself. My lord was very complimentary too rather too much so in fact and I thought proper to be a little haughty and repellent; but I had the pleasure of seeing his nasty, cross wife ready to perish with spite and vexation

“Oh, Miss Murray! you don't mean to say that such a thing could really giye you pleasure! However cross or —

"Well, I know its very wrong; - but never mind! I mean to be good some time-only don't preach now, there's a good creature. I haven't told you half yet. Let me see. Oh! I was going to tell you how many unmistakeable admirers I had: - Sir Thomas Ashby was one, - Sir Hugh Meltham and Sir Broadley Wilson are old codgers, only fit companions for papa and mamma. Sir Thomas is young, rich, and gay; but an ugly beast, nevertheless: however, mamma says I should not mind that after a few months' acquaintance. Then, there was Henry Meltham, Sir Hugh's younger son; rather goodlooking, and a pleasant fellow to flirt with: but being a younger son, that is all he is good for; then there was young Mr. Green, rich enough, but of no family, and a great stupid fellow, a mere country booby; and then, our good rector, Mr. Hatfield: an humble admirer he ought to consider himself; but I fear he has forgotten to number humility among his stock of christian virtues."