"No one can deny that he is highly aristocratic in his appearance;" continued Mrs. Sidney, with great vehemence of manner.

"He is very gentlemanly.”

"Well, well, that is what I mean; you surely do not think that a nobleman must be of necessity very tall, with a lofty bearing, and a regal commanding air! You surely cannot have any such vulgar prejudices; and as to his nobility of character his disinterestedness-he has proved that suffi ciently by selecting you, Viola;-he that might have chosen from amongst the first families of the land."

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Mr. Sidney entered at this crisis. There, Viola," he said, extending a written sheet of paper to her, "will this do? I hope it is not too humble. Gratified as I am, I would not, by any means, appear servile, or cringing. He gets a treasure in you, Viola; a monarch might be proud to share his crown with you, my girl; and now he will expect to hear the confirmation of his happiness, from your own lips. Shall I bid him come to-day ?"

I could not help observing to myself that Mr. Sidney had not even consulted his daughter as to what answer he should send to Lord Glenalbert's proposal. He seemed to make sure of her assent; if Viola noticed this, she stood too much in awe of her father to make any comment thereon; but, in

answer to his last question, she said with breathless earnestness, "Oh, not to-day, papa; to

morrow."

"Nay, Viola, this is foolish," rejoined Mr. Sidney; "this is unlike you, to keep him in suspense. Rely upon it, my girl, your modesty won't be severely taxed; a glance, a word, half a word from you will suffice."

"I can't see him to-day, father." Mrs. Sidney here came to her daughter's relief. "Viola is right, Charles; remember it is late, and if Lord Glenalbert calls to-day, we must ask him to dinner; and I shall have to send out for fish, and there must be an omelette, and sundry other knick-knacks,—and things never do when they are prepared in a hurry; besides, the cook won't have time."

"My dear Anne," said her husband, "rely upon it, Lord Glenalbert will have other things to think of, than how your dinner is dressed. There is sure to be enough, and that is every thing: besides, if we are to make compliments with him it will never do; you forget that he must now of course dine here every day."

"Oh, I shan't mind after once or twice, Charles; but first impressions are every thing."

Mr. Sidney acquiesced. In all controversies relative to domestic affairs, Mrs. Sidney invariably carried the day.

I did not quite like Miss Sidney's manner during the rest of that eventful afternoon; she seemed to be arguing, or reasoning herself, as it were, into love. "I think, cousin Dorothy," said she to me, when we were left alone, "I think, I am sure, I like Lord Glenalbert very much; I am always glad when he asks me to dance. It is very pleasant to meet with any one who takes so real an interest in all one says or does ;-I have heard several traits of him, that I think perfectly admirable. I do not know any one I meet in society whom I like so well, or whom I hold in such high estimation: and, as to falling in love, as it is called, with any one, I don't think that is at all in my way; I certainly have not any very great aptitude for that exquisite diversion;" and so she went on. How was I to answer her? She did not ask my advice, and even if she had, I should have given it distrustfully. I never had a lover; and love, the love matrimonial, was a sealed book to me. What then did I know of such matters? To be sure, years ago I had indulged a vain, delusive dream,-I had staked my dearest hopes upon but what am I doing? I am not writing my own history. The next day, Lord Glenalbert called; and, after that interview, Viola looked radiantly happy. "It is a pleasant thing, Dorothy," said she, when she came to my room at night, "to be the cause of happiness to

others. There is something God-like in it,-it seems to expand one's very soul. My heart bounded again as Lord Glenalbert thanked me for his felicity; and my parents too, Dorothy,-how gratified they seem! My father told me he felt ten years younger; and my mother wept for joy as she embraced me. It is delightful for me to look on them."

CHAPTER VII.

The poet falsified :-"The course of true love runs smooth."

L'amour qui croît peu à peu et par degrès ressemble trop a l'amitié pour être une passion violente.-LA BRUYERE.

SOME weeks passed away; my fears, for I had had my fears, were rapidly subsiding. There was a manly sincerity, a "glow of heart," and an unfailing generosity in Lord Glenalbert's disposition, which daily, hourly, made themselves felt, and could not fail to be appreciated by all who had the privilege of his acquaintance. In literary attainments and grasp of intellect, he was decidedly inferior to Viola; but then, I have never seen her equal. I do not know that he was less well informed than the average number of young gentlemen whom it is one's good fortune to fall in with: he was eloquent on the game laws; conversant in the leading articles of the tory newspapers; wrote his own language correctly, spoke it without any violation of grammar; appre