with Ellen, who sat next to Miss Bradbury, fearful of Mary, who was close at her elbow. At length the important hour arrived for the visit of Lord Beauverie, whose carriage drove up to the door at a very early hour of the evening, Lucy having previously retired to the drawing-room, into which his Lordship was immediately shown; but what he said to Miss Clarendale when he got there and found her alone we cannot impart, as it would be revealing the secrets of the cabinet; but surely our fair readers are at full liberty to guess (if they please) what was the nature of the conversation which passed between them; at all events, we will not suppose that their short interview had been unpleasing or disagreeable on either side, for when Lucy again made her appearance before her friends, she no longer exhibited that fearful timidity which had seemed painful for her to bear, and though her lovely cheek was yet crimsoned with the most enchanting blushes, yet her eyes expressed the most joyous and happy sensations, when Lord Beauverie, taking her by the hand, gracefully led her up in triumph to her father, with whom he conversed, as also with Trelawney and his amiable family, as one now admitted a member of their society, and during the remainder of the evening he exerted himself to become a favourite with them all, paying general attention to all the young ladies, without making the lovely Lucy the particular object of his visit there. The extreme delicacy of so proper a system of conduct added greatly to the high estimation in which he now stood with the family of Mr. Trelawney, and excited the warmest admiration in the breasts of his intended father and mother-in-law; and Sedley Clarendale, who was passionately fond of his sister, was in raptures at the prospect of being so nearly related to so amiable and exalted a personage as the Earl of Beauverie, and secretly rejoiced in the good fortune of his beloved Lucy. There was now hardly a day in which his Lordship was not in Berkeley Square, Lord and Lady Wyndham being constantly there; and the nuptials of his Lordship with the lovely Lucy were to be shortly solemnized with all the splendour which belonged to his exalted rank. Already had it reached the fashionable world, and was buzzed about the ears of many a high-bred dame, and polished finished miss, who, envious of the honours that awaited the lovely humble maid of Beauverie's choice, could see nothing to admire in her; but they were not so prodigiously blind in discovering her imperfections; and Lucy's dress and Lucy's face were become the table-talk with many of the fashionable belles at the west end of the town. Sometimes she was too short-another time her complexion too florid— her nose too flat, and her mouth too wide; then she was affected, and too conscious of the conquest she had obtained over the accomplished Beauverie. "Oh, I cannot think her affected," exclaimed a pretended female wit; "she is certainly what she appears--a complete wild blossom of nature to make an exotic of her would rob her of her whole stock of charms, which actually consist in her simplicity. She reminds me of a daisy, well enough when it is growing in the fields, but transplant it to a garden of lilies and roses, it would be fatiguing for the eye to rest for a moment on its insignificance." "Well, but she must not come among such lilies and such roses as your Ladyship displays," cried an old Duchess, looking very expressively at the painted cheeks of the envious speaker, "for were that to be the case, the daisy would far outshine them, for you know, my Lady, your lilies and roses are no exotics either, except their being transplanted from the perfumer's shop to your Ladyship's cheek, while those of Miss Clarendale's are the effect of nature, which nothing can surpass. I should be glad to know which has the advantage, the blossom of nature or you?" While things were remaining in this precise situation at Berkeley Square, the hopes of Mr. and Mrs. Clarendale being nearly realized, and a superb mansion in Cavendish Square fitting up for the reception of their beloved daughter, as soon as she became the wife of Lord Beauverie, which was expected in a few days, when the whole of this lovely and amiable family were daily projecting plans to increase the mutual happiness which they enjoyed from each other's society, unexpectedly there came a mandate from the captain of the Fortitude to apprise Mr. Trelawney that he should set sail for India as soon as himself and family should come on board, every thing being now in readiness for the voyage, which, as the wind was blowing directly favourable, could no longer admit of delay. This letter happening to arrive at Berkeley Square when all the family were dining at Lord Wyndham's, Christopher gave it into the hands of Fothersgill, who immediately carried it, in propria persona, to South Audley Street, and delivered it into the hands of Mr. Tre lawney, who, having read the contents, felt himself obliged to communicate it to the whole company, when the transition from joy to sorrow was instantaneous,--it throbbed in every heart, and spoke in every eye, and Mrs. Trelawney was the first to evince her sensibility by a very copious flood of tears; Mary, Ellen, and Emma very quickly followed her example; and Sedley, now clasped alternately to the breasts of his mother and his sister, found that philosophy when put to the test, had little to do with feeling, for the latter forcibly prevailed. From this scene Mr. Trelawney soon found it necessary to rouse them, and to inform them that, as the mandate was imperative, the delaying it was useless, and that he felt it his duty to exert his fortitude, as he wished them to exert theirs; that the dearest friends must of necessity part at times, with the cheering hope that they would yet meet again, and with that hope he begged that they would command their feelings and be composed. On these words a little order prevailed: Mr. Clarendale retired for a few moments with his son, and in the mean while Lord Beauverie and Lord Wyndham did all that was possible to console the afflicted mothers, for they felt most; but Lady Wyndham (again in a pregnant situation) had fainted with the sudden surprise, and for her sake every one now affected a composure which they did not feel. On her recovery, Mrs. Trelawney tried to hide her fast-falling tears; but poor Lucy, who doted on her brother, could not be persuaded even by Lord Beauverie from hanging round his neck and sobbing out her affectionate adieus. At length Mr. Trelawney's carriage drove up to the door, and though pale and agitated, he commanded Tanjore to hand his sisters and Emma into it. "In the mean time, Wyndham, you know," cried he, we will borrow yours. Come, my dear girls, go and bid your sister and my Lords Wyndham and Beauverie farewell.” 66 "God bless you, Alexina," sobbed out Mary, but she could utter no more; she was clasped in the arms of Lady Wyndham, where she was held for a few moments in silence,-neither of them could speak, and Mr. Trelawney took her gently away. Ellen next went and embraced her Ladyship; but when it was the turn of Emma, who, though firm, trembled violently, Lady Wyndham exclaimed, 66 Emma, dear sister of my heart, angels bless you till we meet |