a man who had only one syllable to his name-it sounds so insignificant, and I must be in the peerage." "Yes; I remember saying long since, that you would one day deserve the epitaph of some old courtier in former times, 'Here lies one who ne'er preferr'd A viscount to a marquis yet."" But, Matilda, at the same time, I really wish there was a general war, because it is such a bore, the whole continent being open for our discontented beaux to escape to, whenever the slightest whim disgusts them. Now, Sir Alfred Douglas is emigrating also; and, I suppose, like Mr. Grant, he is afraid of asking me too soon." "Have you any reason to imagine that he is attached to you?" asked Matilda, looking intently out of the window. "All the reason in the world," replied Eleanor, with animation. "An intimate friend of Lady Amelia's told me in strict confidence, that his mother had mentioned to her, under seal of profound secrecy, that she took him abroad, because he had become ardently devoted to " a young lady with whom he lately became acquainted,' and she does not wish him to marry yet. Selfish old woman! Now, Matilda, who else could it be except myself; for my informer seemed to hint, that it had some kind of peculiar interest for me, when she disclosed all that was prudent at present. You know it can be neither of the Miss Montagues, because I heard him say to you, that their conversation was double-distilled nonsense. Nor we are certain it is not Lady Caroline Benson, as you will recollect his remarking, in that dry, diverting, sarcastic tone of his, that he never could look at her without tears in his eyes, since the time that he had lost his favourite walking stick with a head on it. Besides these, it is neither of the Miss Sea graves, because he abhors the whole five; so who else could it possibly be, Matilda, unless you flatter yourself on the subject, and I acquit you completely there?" At the idea of having any rivalship with her cousin, Eleanor gave a laugh of derision, which was faintly echoed by Matilda; but a crimson blush mantled in her cheek, and rose to her temples, with such suddenness and brilliancy, that it could scarcely have escaped Eleanor's notice, if our heroine had not been gazing intently in a different direction, apparently absorbed in admiration of a pair of hackney coach horses, which were driving opposite to the window. Whether the cousins ever afterwards discovered the real object of Sir Alfred Douglas's preference, can only be known at some future period, as he and Mr. Grant have both remained abroad for some time, and separately gone through the usual routine of travellers,-a volcano at Mount Vesuvius -a fête at Torlonis-a robbery on the Alps-an overturn near Baden-a bath at Emms-a descent into Herculaneum,—and a voyage in a gondola at Venice. But as it would be unfair to anticipate too large a proportion of the very interesting and original narratives, which will, of course, on their return, instantly appear in Albemarle Street, we shall only farther mention, that they have both already purchased a larger collection of indifferent pictures than either of them has walls for, and sent home several statues, which may hereafter be very serviceable in the family as wig-blocks. CHAPTER XV. Strange to conceive, how the same objects strike "AUNT Olivia," began Eleanor one day, assuming an amiable look, " you were saying a great deal to me last month about doing something generous and useful, now that my means are so enlarged; and as every thing you suggest is deserving of implicit attention, I have the pleasure to announce, that several plans of the kind have occurred to me, of which I know you will approve." "How glad I am to hear it!" said Lady Olivia, raising herself up with some effort from the sofa on which she had reclined, and looking with hopeful interest towards Elea"It always gives me pleasure to be told of kind intentions; and if you will communicate them to Matilda and me, we shall be happy to hear an account of your projects." nor. "In the first place, then, I intend to build the most picturesque little school-house in the world, near Barnard Castle. It is to be a rough log hut, of which I shall get the plan from some architect, with wide casements, and thatched on the roof, covered with creepers, and standing in a beautiful situation, close to the lake." "My dear Eleanor, the very description is enough to give one the rheumatism," said Lady Olivia, smiling. "Such a place might be endurable for six weeks of sum mer; but you have no idea of a Highland climate; and during the autumn and winter it would be necessary to have an hospital for all the coughs and colds that would be caught. You might easily have something quite as pretty, and more substantial." "It is truly discouraging to be met with objections at my very outset," replied the young heiress, peevishly; "but the whole affair is arranged in my own mind, so that I would rather abandon the scheme entirely than alter it. The girls shall all be dressed in a sort of uniform,-frocks of the Barnard tartan, with white tippets, and transparent white muslin bonnets. If any of them are tolerable looking, the effect will be beautiful.” "For a few weeks, Eleanor," added Lady Olivia ; " but my dear girl, you have too much good sense not to be conscious that the whole plan is more like a scene on the stage than a scheme that is to be acted in real life, and in the wilds of Inverness-shire. Pray revise it, with corrections, taking into consideration nine months of cold weather, and a large proportion of short days and of Scotch mist." "It is nonsense to attempt pleasing anybody," cried Eleanor, impatiently. "I thought, aunt Olivia, you would have been the last person on earth to prevent my establishing a school, when your own has been so successful; but another of my plans is beyond criticism, certainly, though it requires your consent. You know, my dear aunt, how long I have been raving about the beauty of the cow-herd's daughter here. It distresses me every day, to see that lovely girl, Nanny Muckleraith—what a name for a beauty!-weeding amongst flowers, not one of which is so fresh or so blooming as herself; and, poor thing! she is wretchedly dressed too. I have the same pleasure in looking at a fine face as at a fine picture; and my object is, with your permission, to have this young Hebe taught dress-making, and to promote her into the situation of my own maid." "Dear Eleanor! this is a very kind impulse of feeling on your part," replied the gentle Lady Olivia, colouring with embarrassment, and hesitating how to express herself in the most conciliatory terms; "I wish it were possible to comply with your wishes, but so many painful lessons were long since given me against being romantic in my charities, that I can see nothing but the danger of evil and of much future regret in your proposed plan. Nanny is certainly very beautiful, and what is still more uncommon in that rank of life, extremely graceful, so that formerly I was often much tempted to notice her at school more than would have been prudent. I have since considered whether any thing could be done to improve her circumstances, and would have spared no effort to do any real good; but nothing seemed so advantageous as Millar's present way of supplying her with ample employment, along with the elder sister, and leaving them under protection of their father's roof. In my house she might have been carefully superintended, but any arrangement in this world which depends upon the continuation of life to me, must now be of a very temporary nature. In your service she would inevitably attract more notice than is desirable; for I never saw the person yet who passed her in the garden without noticing that delicate profile and brilliant colour. On the whole, as you desire to do an act of kindness, let me entreat that instead of Nanny, you will patronize her sister Martha, who is also an excellent girl, and who has not the disadvantage, as I may really call it in their situation, of being so remarkably handsome." “Excuse me there, Aunt Olivia!" exclaimed Eleanor. "You spoil my whole romance in a moment, which I really cannot consent to! Martha is merely an every-day, hardworking, good sort of girl, in whom I could take no interest |