of his voice filled her enchanted ears. When her children came, she possessed objects upon whom she could lavish as much affection as she pleased, without being the cause of weariness. But, loving them with the utmost tenderness, her husband still came first. He was the lord and master-she and they the willing slaves, happy to be allowed to minister to his necessities. His comfort was always first with her, and if there was a chance for anything a little beyond comfort, it was his right. His silken curtains were her gift, and put up by her own hands. She had taken the greatest pleasure in disposing of a valuable ring once given her by her father, because her husband thought a subdued light was favorable to composition. And her sovereign regarded her efforts with complacency, thanked her graciously, and begged her to keep the children out of the way while he finished that canto, and was altogether unconscious that he kept with him a mighty monster who would more effectually exclude the small feet and merry voices from "papa's study"-his giant selfishness. down the column, and fluttered up the broad But his children adored him. Such a hand- It is a fact, that some human beings have in them a charm independent of any great qualities of mind or heart, which makes the rest of the race their obedient slaves upon sight. It is no more to be analyzed than the flame in the carbuncle, or the perfume of a flower. It is not altogether beauty, but possesses more of the properties of magnetism. Lady Constantia walked meekly away from ner husband's study, mentally reproaching herself for having obtruded her comparatively insignificant affairs upon his notice, and went out on the back porch, which opened into the kitchen-garden, surrounded by a high wall, against which some valuable fruit-trees were carefully trained, and having, at its farthest extremity, a large pigeon-house, set upon a straight column, formed by the slender trunk of a young ash, at a height of about fifteen feet from the ground. As Lady Constantia appeared on the porch, something all pink, and gold, and white, slid The young lady's pretty pink dress was torn in several places, and, having been ripped off the waist at the back, formed an impromptu train, which trailed negligently over the green heads of the cabbages, while in front it was short enough to display a pair of elegant little feet in slippers very much worn, and one of which had lost its rosette. She had taken but a few steps, when something on the wall seemed to attract her attention, and she called out in a clear, high voice— "Oh, Lou! Lou! such heaps and heaps of bully little pigeons!" A boy's face, round and rosy, with light, curling hair standing out around it in every direction like an eccentric aureole, rose like the sun, above the wall, elevated by the two hands which grasped the upper row of bricks, and placed him astride in an instant. "Never mind the pigeons," was the response. 'Come and give the frogs a touzling.” "Fra! Fra!" cried Lady Constantia, unheard by Fra, who flew, light as thistle-down, across the garden to the wall, and, stepping from one to another of the boughs that latticed it, was over the top in a minute. "Oh! my dress!" cried the girl, as her re fractory skirt, having attached itself to a large nail in the wall, refused to follow her in her descent. "Why can't girls wear something sensible?" growled Louis, as with his strong, boyish hands he tore the offending portion from the rest of the skirt, leaving it trailing, like a broken banner, from the garden wall. "What will mamma say ?" cried Fra, with dim foreboding of maternal displeasure. "But, never mind! there are the frogs." The frogs, plump fellows in green coats, streaked and mottled with gold, in a highly military manner, inhabited a small pond in the centre of a meadow, back of Staniford Rectory, and all unconscious of approaching danger, were carrying on an animated conversation, in which every one seemed to be engaged, from the gigantic, deep-voiced bull-frog, to the tiny disputant just un-polywogged. "I should think they were holding a Donnybrook Fair," said Fra, dancing upon one foot in the excess of her glee; "and flourishing their reed shillelahs, and getting drunk on the dew in the cuckoo-cups." "Don't talk bosh," said Louis, who was disentangling a couple of strings that he had taken from his pocket. "Tisn't bosh," said his sister, indignantly. "Papa read to us about the battle of the frogs and mice. I remember "Dreadful in arms the marching mice appear; The wondering frogs perceive the tumult near."" "Pooh! you don't believe anything that the Pope wrote, do you? Why, the next thing, you will be going to hear Father Flaherty say mass." "I don't believe the Pope wrote it," said Fra, seating herself on the edge of the pond, and tickling the nose of a large frog with a blade of grass. "He did, though. I heard old Blogun say so in school, the other day, and he's up to anything. Come, aint you going to towzle 'em?" This elegant amusement consisted in tying a string to the leg of a frog, a proceeding which allowed of a jump into his native element, from which he was immediately withdrawn by his ingenious tormentor, again to plunge into the delicious coolness, only again to be withdrawn. "Mamma! mamma!" said Emily, when Fra returned, "Look at the disgraceful condition of that child!" "That child" came in with an airy grace which owned no consciousness of the unladylike disorder of her dress; and Lady Constantia said, smiling, "She might as well be a child for a few years longer, for no one could possibly suppose her to be more than fourteen." CHAPTER II. "Here comes the Countess." Twelfth Night, or What You Will. Wednesday morning, Emily, in view of the approaching crisis, arrayed herself in a very becoming blush-colored cambric, and having carefully braided her long black hair, crowned herself with it royally, placing a sprig of hawthorn over the left temple, and looked so brilliantly beautiful that Georgiana sneezed herself into a nervous headache trying to persuade her sister that she was no prettier than usual; but Emily, complacently regarding her blooming image, went down stairs to see what her mother would say. "I hope that you will be my mother's choice," said Lady Constantia, surveying, approvingly, the daughter who inherited her own stately elegance of person, with her father's soft, dark eyes. One always likes to look well, mamma," said Emily, who did not like to find that her motives were so transparent. "I think it is a woman's duty always to look as well as she can," said Mr. Langdon; and Emily seated herself at the table, with the agreeable consciousness that in that respect she rigidly fulfilled her social obligations, and said—"I wont take any coffee this morning, mamma; I'm afraid it will make my nose red." Georgiana raised her shoulders, with an audible sniff of contempt. "Choking, Georgie?" said Louis. "Em! you look first-rate, this morning; but try as you will, you can't come up to Fra. It's her mane that does it." Her what?" asked his mother. "Why, all that tossing, yellow hair of hers." "You are always admiring her, because you think that you look like her," retorted Emily, disdainfully. "But I aint the only one that says so. All the boys in our school are in love with her, only they don't dare to say so. They're always sending apples, and nuts, and things; and she gives the nuts to the squirrel, and the apples to the pigs, and sends back word that they're nonsense. But, here she comes-and oh! aint she a guy?" The garment which transfigured his pretty sister into a "guy," was a high-necked, longsleeved, blue gingham apron, which Lady Con stantia insisted upon her wearing, ostensibly to guard her white dress from soil, but in reality to increase the exceeding youthfulness of her appearance, and with her little delicate figure, which was under the middle height, her white dress only falling to the ankle, her red cheeks blooming under her flossy, amber hair, as she came in slightly pouting, she looked like a naughty child expecting punishment. "Ha! ha ha!" laughed Louis, with exaggerated mirth, "you look just like a great baby." "You look much more like a great baby yourself, spilling your tea in that manner," said Fra, dexterously contriving to jerk his elbow, as she seated herself by him-a proceeding which deluged her blue apron with the liquid. "Good! You'll have to take off that horrid thing," said Louis. Fra looked at her mother with an expression compounded of real mischief and mock penitence, and left the room to remove the detested gar ment. While Georgina was languidly buttering her toast, and Emily was eating a good deal of carrote-au-crème, because it was good for the complexion, there was silence at the table, while Mr. Langdon read his newspaper, and Louis shyly fed the cat when his mother was not looking. But when Fra returned, with white, uncovered shoulders, she and Louis chattered like a couple of sparrows through the rest of the meal, Mr. Langdon having finished his breakfast, and Lady Constantia never interfering with this "table-talk," rightly considering that lively conversation promotes digestion, but never permitting it to verge upon clamor. After breakfast, Emily carried a chair out on the veranda, and, having seated herself, and gracefully disposed her voluminous pink robes around her, sent Louis to gather her some flowers. "Enough of the handsomest to make three large bouquets," was her direction. Louis, having gathered them, tried to find out what they were for, as Emily was not in the habit of spending much time in any but personal decoration. Emily's reply was not very satisfactory. "They are for a room." "But what room?" "A room in a house," was the provoking rejoinder. And Louis, complaining that she always got everything out of a fellow without telling him anything, strolled down the avenue, whistling, and looking in every direction for possible mischief. As Louis disappeared, a young man walked quickly towards the house, unperceived by Emily, whose eyes were fixed upon her growing bouquet. As he ran lightly up the steps leading to the veranda, he took off his hat, and the breeze raised the soft, light hair from his blue-veined' forehead, and blew it in little rings around his temples, parting it where it grew long upon his shapely neck. That Emily was not altogether unaware of his approach, was shown by the rich color that rose to her cheeks as she bent lower over her flowers; but she started very naturally as he touched her shoulder, very timidly, as a man does when he holds the woman he loves to be a sacred thing. It is you, is it?" said she, as he threw himself at her feet, and, while his hands wandered among the flowers on her lap, his eyes were fixed on her changing face, seeking the glance which she did not vouchsafe to him. Here are 'violets dim,'" he said, "but sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, gold ox-lips, and the crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds, the fleurde-lis being one."" said Emily, starting from her chair as he at- subtle instinct which informs the object of a tempted to possess himself of her hand. "Emily, I thought—" "Are you going to play 'What is your thought like?' The game is stupid with only two," said Emily, going to one of the windows opening upon the yeranda, and calling through it, "Georgie! you're wanted." "Emily! Emily!" said her lover, his full, girlish lips trembling, and their healthy red becoming a bluish pallor. "What is it?" said Georgiana, opening one of the windows, and walking out upon the veranda. "Will you entertain Mr. Dalton, while I carry these flowers to Lady Ilshey's room?" "Good morning, Harry!" said Georgie, offering her hand. passion of its existence; and she, poor girl, loved silently, expecting no return. When happiness was no longer possible for one's self, how delightful to be the means of giving it to another; and Emily, triumphing in her power, would find her slave the monarch of another. His resolve was taken, and hurriedly, and with none of the eagerness which had distinguished his approach to Emily, he offered his hand to her sister. Georgiana was taken by surprise; she had only hoped to do her sister a mischief; she had never dreamed of winning her lover, and the man whom she loved. my wife, I will try to make you very happy." His felt like ice in her warm palm, and look-touch of Emily's fingers; "but if you will be ing in his face, she saw, at a glance, what had happened, and pushing Emily's chair towards him, she seated herself in the embrasure of the window, occupying herself with gathering up Emily's scattered flowers, that he might have time to regain his composure. "Is Lady Ilshey coming?" said he, at last, in a voice so hoarse and unnatural, that Georgie could hardly believe she had ever heard it before. "We are expecting her to-day," said Georgie. "She wrote to mamma that she was coming to select one of us as a wife for Roger Chardavoyne," (here, she saw, without looking, that Harry winced.) "He is Lord Damer's younger brother, and it will be a good match for the one whom she makes her choice." There it was, as if he had spoken the words-I love your sister, but she has slighted me, and I ask you to marry me, that I may avenge myself, and because I know that you love me. But, Georgie, having gained her lover, did not quarrel with the manner of her triumph, and she turned to him eyes almost as sparkling, cheeks almost as glowing as Emily's own, as she met his proffered kiss. Fra, who had been swinging on a grape-vine, within sight and hearing, but concealed from their observation, peering through the leafy screen, saw the embrace, and ran to tell her confederate, Louis, that Harry kissed Georgie, on the veranda, and their "Countess-grandmamma," Artful Georgie! your sister's lover should (a childish name for Lady Ilshey,) was coming know why his advances were repelled. Georgie again looked at Harry, without appearing to do so. He was now red with indignation, as he had before been white with anguish. As he raised his eyes, they fell upon Georgie, who was sitting in the window, apparently unconscious of his gaze, as she twined together the stems of the flowers she held. She wore a white morning-dress, with cherry ribbons, and the light, swaying with the swaying vines, fell on her shining hair, and flickered over the graceful folds of her dress, and over her small, white hands, playing with the brown stems. She looked very picturesque, and almost pretty and she looked like Emily, only Emily was incomparably more beautiful; but Emily had slighted him for a person whom she had never even seen a base insult, after her long encouragement of his unspoken love; and Georgiana loved him; this he had long known by that that very afternoon. "Ho! ho! old Em's lost her beau!" said Louis, cutting a caper, after having listened, with round eyes, to Fra's narration. "It is very wrong in Harry," said Fra, drawing a profile on the ground, with the tip of her slipper. "Pooh! she's been putting on airs with him," said Louis, who had a great contempt for such breezy dispositions; "and he's served her right by going over to Georgie. I was always afraid she was going to be an old maid." I am going to be an old maid," said Fra, with a toss of her head, which shook her hair into a golden glory around it. "No, you are not. You are handsome enough for a countess." "I will be a countess. I will be Lady Ilshey," said Fra, sailing around with her white skirts dispread, and courtesying to Louis. with an in went towards the house, he whispered to his sis-noise in the back part of the house, and a rosyter, "Can that be Countess-grandmamma?” CHAPTER III. "I know my price, I am worth no worse a place." Quoted from memory. Georgiana, absorbed by her new-found happiness, did not perceive the stranger's approach; but Harry, who was not in love, and had already grown weary of gazing into the eyes that he had made shine, informed her that some one was ringing the bell, and then ran down the steps, without lingering for that farewell which makes parting "such sweet sorrow." "This is Miss Langdon, is it not?" asked "the woman in black." Georgie assented, "I would like to see your mother. As Georgie opened the door, Lady Constantia crossed the hall. Here is my mother. Mamma, you have a caller." cheeked maid came in with the information that, "Oh, my lady, a young gentleman is brought two trunks to the door." It is Jenkins," said Spanner, "with my lady's baggage." "It is to be carried into the front chamber, Ann," said Lady Constantia. "I presume Mrs Spanner will ask Jenkins to carry it up with Thomas' assistance, and I will go down to meet my mother." Lady Constantia threw a veil over her soft braids, and had walked half way down the avenue, when she saw her mother come in at the gate. She forgot the long estrangement, the cruel silence she remembered only that she saw her mother, from whom she had been separated all those weary years-years, which now seemed shorter than the few moments which must elapse before she should again touch her mother's hand, again kiss her mother's cheek. Poor, soft-hearted woman! When she at last reached the graceful little figure habited in gray alpaca, she began to cry hysterically, as she exclaimed, "Oh, mother, mother!" and was about to throw herself upon her neck in the beautiful but exploded "What, Spanner! Is it possible? Then my fashion of the patriarchal era, when Lady Ilshey mother is here?" said Lady Constantia, extend-retreated a step, and cried, ing her hand, which Spanner just touched with "Mercy, child, you are a perfect Niobe! Do the tips of her fingers, as if overwhelmed by take pity upon my new travelling-dress-every the honor, and then continued, without appear-drop of water spots it." ing to have heard her ladyship's question, “My lady desired me to ask if the chamber which she is to have has a southern exposure?" As Lady Constantia turned and looked at the new-comer without appearing to recognize her, she courtesied stiffly, and said, "Have you gotten Spanner, my lady ?" for "I do not remember-yes. Where is she? When did she come?" said Lady Constanţia, her cheeks flushing, and her hands trembling at the thought of the nearness of that mother whom she had not seen for twenty-seven years. Lady Constantia drew back suddenly, but the Countess, slipping her hand through her daughter's arm, said, Come, Constantia, repress your indignation, and kiss me if it pleases you. I recollect that you were always a little inclined to sentiment; a disposition which does not amalgamate with the fashions of this work-a-day world." And my lady wished to know if your ladyIt is twenty-seven years since I have seen ship has a bath-room?" said the inexorable Span-you, mother," her daughter returned, with something like constraint in her tone and man ner, slowly grinding out her words, without heeding her ladyship's agony of suspense. "A bath-room? Yes-no-" said Lady Constantia. We will arrange that afterwards. Is Lady Ilshey at the station?" |