tender sentiment which he was about to express seemed ridiculous and misplaced.

To add to his discomfiture, Lord Midhurst at that moment came up, and throwing himself into a chair by Agnes, and addressing her in a very unsentimental tone of gaiety, seemed to preclude all chance of a speedy resumption of so interesting a subject. But what was worst, Agnes appeared much pleased at this interruption, entered immediately into conversation with Lord Midhurst, assumed her sprightliest manner, and seemed desirous to drown all recollection of the past, in a copious flow of lively nonsense.

Lacy was mortified: his pride was wounded by her receiving Lord Midhurst's intrusion, as if it were a relief from the irksomeness of a tête-à-tête with him; and he was by this time sufficiently in love to be made very jealous by such a mark of preference. His jealousy, as is usually the case, rendered him unjust; and he quickly settled in his mind, that Agnes was a manoeuvring coquette, whose aim it was to play off Lord Midhurst and himself against each other, and thereby make them hasten their advances, and secure a proposal, at least from one. Lacy mentally vowed that it should not be from him; nor did he think that Agnes wished it should. Though himself a good match, he knew that, in the eyes of a fortune-hunter, he was very inferior to Lord Midhurst, whose proposals to Agnes, Lady Malvern evidently both wished and expected. With that retaliating spirit with which disappointed persons sometimes console themselves under their mortifications, he now set himself to reflect how fortunate it was that he was prevented, by a wealthier suitor, from throwing himself away upon one, who, upon second thoughts, appeared so objectionable as a wife. The coolness existing between the families, which a few hours

ago it seemed so delightful to remove, now again presented an insuperable bar. The badness of the connexion also appeared to him in glaring colours. The Mortons, if not vulgar themselves, were at any rate related to those who were; and how would the heir of the Lacys endure to have his wife becousined by the Bagshawes!

For this feeling of pride he momentarily reproached himself, and remembered the lesson which Agnes had taught him. But then she had not acquired like him a legitimate right to look down upon the canaille. "Though, if they were my relations," he said, "I hope I should behave to them as well as she does; but while the choice is in my power, I may surely be allowed to feel the force of the objection."

Then, after wondering for awhile at his own fickleness, in being now reduced to combat, with such earnestness, wishes which he had so lately began to form, he determined to resign all thoughts of Agnes, and contentedly decided that it would be much for the advantage of all parties, that she should bestow herself upon Lord Midhurst.

CHAPTER VIII.

Trincalo. I must tell you a secret, if you'll make much on t Armellina. As it deserves, What is it?

Trincalo. I love you, dear morsel of modesty, I love you; and so truly that I'll make you mistress of my thoughts, lady of my revenues, and commit all my moveables into your hands.

Albumazar.

IF Lacy flattered himself that he had obtained such a mastery over his feelings, as to wish success to Lord Midhurst, his lordship thought he had ensured it. This delightful persuasion did not, however, cause him to exhibit many of the characteristics of a fortunate lover. His spirits were too uniformly good to be capable of much improvement without exceeding proper bounds.

Abstrac

tion was as foreign to his nature as flying. He was not a ruminating animal; and though he talked much, it was never to himself. When his mind was full of any subject, he always unburthened it as expeditiously as possible. He therefore had as absolute need of a confidant, as any hero in French tragedy, and his want was amply supplied; for nowhere could he have found one better suited to such an office than his useful friend Jack Luscombe.

"Jack," said he, as they walked homeward from the paddocks, where they had been passing their judgment upon Lord Appleby's racing stud, "what do you think of Miss Morton?" only wants blood," said Luscombe, whose own escutcheon was not one of the brightest.

She

"No-and she does not so much want that," replied Lord Midhurst, "you know her mother is aunt to Swansea. Her father was low enough to be sure a blacksmith or locksmith, or some such thing-he or his father, I don't know which. She is bred pretty much like Lichfield's filly, Violante, by Tinker, out of the Duchess."

"And a fine filly that was," said Luscombe, laughing at this elegant allusion.

"And a fine girl Miss Morton is,” replied the lover, "and devilish handsome, in my opinion; and I am not the only person who thinks so. There are several I could mention, who think her quite first-rate in point of face. There is Lutterworth— you know Lutterworth? I saw him one night leaning against the wall, in the pit at the Opera; with a glass screwed into his eye, staring away for an hour together. I asked him if he was star-gazing. 'Something pretty much like it,' he said; he had been looking at Miss Morton, and wanted to find out who she was. Luckily for him I happened to know. I had become acquainted a few days before, it was at Almack's, or some such place; and I asked Leicester, who knows the Malverns, if he would introduce me to her. Leicester said, in his sleepy way, that he would find an opportunity. Damn it,' I said, why cannot you make one?' So I made him introduce me at last. I really thought it was time to know her, for I had heard several men admire her, and Bellasys had danced with her, and you know he is great authority, and gives the tone a good deal in these things-so that one hardly could be wrong."

"Why, no-you could not, certainly," said Luscombe, as if he had maturely considered the point.

"No," replied Lord Midhurst; as you say, one could not be wrong; and then she is not like some girls, that are pretty enough, but then they want

a-a certain something-a sort of an air; you understand me; but she is so fashionable looking, and has so much style and manner, and all that sort of thing, you know."

"Exactly so," said Mr. Luscombe, settling his cravat, "they say she has a very good fortune." "Yes," replied Lord Midhurst, looking more thoughtful than usual, "I believe she has-not that I consider that so much an object.'

"Ah,

Luscombe looked him full in the face. ha, my Lord!" said he, tapping him on the shoulder, "at last I begin to understand you-Matrimony is in the wind."

Lord Midhurst, with a little hesitation, allowed that he had some idea of the kind.

"And a good idea too," said Luscombe. "You know I have often told you you ought to marry. We may all live single if such men as you are not to set us the example. And then, as for the choice you have made, upon my honour, if I may make bold to give my opinion of your intended, I must say I think the lady does infinite credit to your

taste."

"Do you think she will have me?" his lordship asked, smiling all the while in conscious security.

"Will she? won't she? that's all. My dear fellow," lowering his voice to a kind of confidential whisper, "the game is in your own hands-you have nothing to do but to propose.

دو

"Haven't I? Well, I hope I haven't. I'll tell you what, Luscombe, I shall rather astonish my friend Lacy. Lacy likes her, I am sure, not that I care for that; the only question is, whether she likes him."

Luscombe smiled, and shook his head, as if he thought the thing impossible.

"You think she does not? so do I, though it is not such a very unlikely thing either. Lacy is a