there was an empressement in her manner of closing the door which indicated a storm within. She passed Lady Evans' gate without the most transient thought of entering, and triumphantly proceeded to confide in the sympathizing bosom of " dear" Miss Rachel Stodart, how much she had to put up with from Lady Olivia, and how painful were the dependance and poverty which obliged her to associate constantly with a mind so uncongenial and so unenlightened.

"Argument is of no avail," said Miss Neville bitterly, "for she seems to have made up a bundle of opinions for herself, which are the standard on every occasion; they are such as we have exploded ages ago, but she has a plausible way of supporting them that makes it difficult to reply, so I have given up the point, and shall say not one word more except on the most ordinary topics."

Lady Olivia, the unconscious object of these animadversions, proceeded, after Miss Neville's departure, to enjoy her own solitary walk towards the village, where her errands of mercy and benevolence may be left in the privacy to which she always consigned them, within her own breast, where charity reigned in its most extended sense, with a power which time seemed to increase, and to which the lapse of years only added fresh energy, as it cheered her with the near prospect of that sacred rest to which for herself she looked forward, as "the twilight of her sorrows, and the dawn of future bliss,"-that period when faith should be swallowed up in sight, and hope in enjoyment.

J

CHAPTER IX.

One would imagine by the common modes of female education, that life consisted of one universal holiday, and that the only contest was, who should best be enabled to excel in the sports and games that were to be celebrated on it.-HANNAH More.

ABOUT two years subsequent to the commencement of our story, the time was at hand when Lady Fitz-Patrick and Lady Howard were to estimate their success in educating their respective daughters, by that only test which either of them considered at all important,-the applause with which the world would hail their debut, and the splendid settlement which each might finally secure in life.

Lady Howard, as a measure preparatory to the approaching winter, shut up Matilda more carefully than ever from public view, that she might at last raise the curtain with more effect; but, on the contrary, Lady Fitz-Patrick blazoned forth Eleanor at every party where there was any excuse for producing a mere school-girl, who was not come out yet." She was taken to concerts that her taste in music might be improved; to small parties, because they were small parties; to balls, because Lady So and So made such a point of seeing her there; to the theatre, because she ought to know by sight all the most celebrated actors of her own day; and to exhibitions, that she might be exhibited herself. Eleanor's bust was sculptured in marble, and pronounced by enraptured amateurs to be perfectly classical ; her miniature was taken by Mrs. Robertson, and thought to be the best painting she had ever executed, and

Lady Fitz-Patrick became quite intoxicated with the enthusiasm her daughter excited, especially because much of it reverted on her own head, owing to the complaisance with which her visitors mingled their admiration of Eleanor with herself.

"It seems the strangest thing to me having a grown-up daughter," said she, pulling out her long-dark ringlets, and laughing, to display her still beautiful teeth!

"If we had not seen her mother formerly," said old Sir Colin Fletcher, bowing profoundly, "I must have pronounced Miss Fitz-Patrick the greatest beauty that I ever beheld."

This was exactly suited to the taste of her to whom it was addressed, and the fame of Eleanor's brilliant appearance became more an object of interest in Lady Fitz-Patrick's estimation than ever. "She is very like what I was," she remarked, with a glance of admiration at her own graceful figure, in an opposite mirror.

"Or, rather say, she is like what you are," replied Sir Colin, "I could scarcely have believed you were more than her elder sister."

Say my younger sister at once, when you are about -it," interrupted Eleanor in an angry aside," it is best, as Americans say, to go the whole hog, if you are sure of its being palatable."

A prolific subject of irritation between Lady Fitz-Patrick and her daughter had lately sprung from the former iusisting that Eleanor should always be dressed nearly the same as herself, and her spirits were often elated for a whole day, after some short-sighted person had accidentally mistaken her, through the medium of a black chantilly veil, for her young and lovely daughter. Such little contretemps were invariably repeated to every visitor during the following day, with a few faint disparagements of her claim to such a compliment, and though there were many com... plaisant friends ready to protest, that it was a most natural

error which could cause no surprise to any one. Eleanor was far from enjoying the joke, and observed the whole scene with a look of grave contemptuous displeasure.

Notwithstanding all the accomplishments which Eleanor had so laboriously acquired, she became the wretched prey to ennui and idleness, whenever any accidental circumstance threw her, during a single hour, on her own resources for occupation.

Though Miss Marabout continued nominally in the capacity of governess, she understood her own interest too well not to have long since been transformed into a mere companion and confidante; so that, except walking out with her pupil every day, in the most frequented streets and gardens, she scarcely took any charge of her whatever. Unless Eleanor had some party in immediate prospect, at which she was expected to perform, she never touched her piano-forte or harp, as a means of private entertainment. Sir Richard, who was passionately fond of music, seldom heard the most distant sound of her instrument, which she always closed hastily at his approach, because his favourite. composers were Handel and Correlli, whom she had long since condemned to oblivion as antediluvians, whose compositions she pronounced it a penance to play. Her portfolio was already filled with a sufficient collection of drawings for exhibition to all visitors, and in fact, Eleanor knew that without the assistance of a master, she could not have finished any more. Her select library of French, Italian, and German authors had been conspicuously arranged round the table, from whence they were never discomposed; and a large piece of unfinished embroidery was frequently displayed as the result of her labour though it never seemed to make any progress; her silks were all entangled, her pattern was lost,-but nothing could be more beautifully begun.

The fable of the hare and the tortoise was nearly illus

trated in the relative progress of Eleanor and Matilda's education, for the latter had almost equalled her brilliant cousin in some lighter accomplishments, in which she really delighted as a relaxation from more serious occupations; to Eleanor nothing was a recreation, because her whole time was spent in seeking for it, and therefore, her mind never knew the luxury of resting from labour; but Matilda's day, on the contrary, was frequently varied from quiet study and intense application to the free enjoyment of her naturally buoyant spirits, so that what was the business of Eleanor's life, formed only the amusement of hers; every natural enjoyment, and every natural feeling retained their youthful freshness in the character of Matilda, but with Eleanor all her original disposition was extinguished, and the candour and sensibility of youth were exchanged for a studied affectation of both.

Matilda Howard had grown up a Christian, in the most beautiful sense of that character,-active in duty; contented in spirit; seeking with unwearied assiduity to promote the cause of godliness in all, and testifying to even the most censorious observers, by the whole tenor of her conduct and conversation, that her thoughts were habitually under the direction of that Spirit from whom she looked on every occasion for guidance and comfort; there was no distinction in Matilda's mind between the faith and the practice of the gospel, for they seemed to her as inseparably united as the light and the warmth of a fire, which cannot exist at all without producing both. Her almost daily walk was now extended to reach Lady Olivia's residence, and as Matilda and Miss Porson cheerfully traced their steps along the quiet and secluded road which led to Ashgrove, they beguiled the distance with so many interesting subjects of discussion, that they were scarcely conscious of fatigue, and the cordial animated reception they invariably met with at last, would have more than rewarded