twice announced that dinner was upon the table before the bride thought proper to appear.

Catherine felt for Charles; Sir Thomas, who sat opposite to him, kept his eyes fixed on his watch, impatient for the expiration of the few minutes; but when a quarter, and then twenty minutes passed, he became very restless; but when the hand pointed to half past six, he could stand it no longer, and, rising from his chair, said he would go down stairs and take a glass of wine, as it did not seem certain when Mrs Lennox would be dressed. At this, Charles, who was much fretted that his wife should give umbrage to his father the first day of their meeting, rose also to go to the apartment of his lady, with the determination of not leaving her room without her, but her entrance at this moment saved him that trouble. "Come away, my dear," he exclaimed in no very bridegroom-like tone; " my father does not like to be kept waiting, and dinner

has been on the table this half hour; 'tis nearly seven o'clock."

"Good la, is it so late?" replied his lady, without thinking it necessary to make the slightest apology for protracting their dinner to such an unusual hour; "I don't feel at all hungry, the luncheon we had on the road has quite spoiled my appetite; I don't think I shall be able to swallow a morsel."

"You ought to consider," said Charles, "that others may not have partaken of luncheon; we must in future conform to the hours of the family."

Sir Thomas now offered his arm to the lady, and they led the way to the dining

room.

Hardly had they got into better humour with one another, and just as the soup was removed, when Clara rushed into the room, and squeezed herself in between her mother and Lady Lennox.

"What brings you here, Clara ?" said Charles." Anne, my dear," he continued,

addressing his wife, "you had better send her up stairs; she is much too young to sit at table."

"Me not go up stairs," said Clara, at the same time grasping the arm of her mamma; "me no like dine up stairs; me cry up stairs."

"Do, Charles, let her stay, since she has come down," said his wife; "I am sure she will be quite quiet.-Won't you, my love?" she said, kissing the cheek of the really lovely child; "you must promise to sit quite still, or papa will send you up stairs if you are troublesome."

"Nonsense," exclaimed Charles; "children should be kept in their nursery."

"You know, Charles, all is new to her," replied his better half; " you must give Clara time to get acquainted with your family. She always was a very timid child, which obliges me to bring her more forward than I would otherwise do."

66

Mamma," said Clara, by way of refuting her assertion, "mamma, I say, give

me some of those pease, and a piece of that chicken."

"Hush, my love, you must wait till the company are helped; and you know, Clara, I have often told you that little girls should never ask for anything at table."

"But me not a little girl; me as big as Cousin Henry; and his mamma always gives him what he asks for."

"Well, well, only be quiet, and you shall have a little bit; but remember, you never shall have it again, if you are so rude as ask it."

"So you always say, mamma, and always give it to me."

"Miss Dundas," said Mrs Lennox, without attending to Clara's remark, "will you have the goodness to send a wing of that chicken to this noisy child?"

"It would be much more proper, I think,” said Charles, fretfully, " to send the noisy brat to the nursery."

No one took any notice of this remark, and Catherine, by way of quieting Miss

Clara, sent her the coveted morsel; but far from being satisfied with gaining this point, it seemed but an encouragement to new demands, and as Lady Lennox had too much good-breeding to deny the child's request in the presence of its mother, who was the proper person to interfere in the business, poor Clara was stuffed with a part of every dish at table. The conversation was chiefly confined to Clara, who asked her mamma innumerable questions, made remarks on all she saw, and, in short, engrossed the whole conversation; and Mrs Lennox, in place of checking her, and giving her attention to her ladyship, encouraged her prattle, and seemed to think her the only person present worth listening to. In vain Catherine attempted to render the conversation more general: all her efforts for that purpose proved unavailing; and truly grieved for her cousin, who seemed to be most heartily ashamed of his wife, and observing that even the politeness of Sir Thomas was beginning to totter, she gave Lady Lennox