"To avoid all misconstruction, I must inform you, Mrs. Manford, that it is my intention to make Anne my wife; the cause of my inquiries you may, therefore, easily divine."

The ladies stared at each other for a second or two, and then, apparently forgetting the baronet's presence, burst into a violent fit of laughing.

"Well Nancy!" exclaimed Mrs. Manford, senior, "I told thee it would end in something; but I did na think it would end in that. What a pert hussy-to be sure !"

"Never heed, mother, she's only a bit of a foundling; and, you know, our Nelly's going to be married to a Count.

"That's a comfort, to be sure. But, howsomever, you see, Sir John-may be, we're almost as great folks as you; and if so be as you don't pay our John, why, I tell you again, he'll take the law on you. And to tell you a bit more of my mind, I thinks as how Jem the keeper, would be a much properer husband for Anne, than you;-that's my mind, Sir John-and as I was a mother to her, why I thinks as how I ought to know."

"Well, Mrs. Manford, I will not pain myself or you, by expressing my feelings on this occasion, but will confine myself to begging simply, that if any document or article came with Anne, I shall hold myself obliged by Sir John Manford transmitting it to me, or to my agent at Vale Hall; and for this he shall be amply rewarded-and twice the amount he claims for her guardianship shall be paid over to him.”

"That's speaking purpose-like, Sir John,-and I'll tell him and as you are going to marry out of our family, in a way, I'll tell you a bit of news. You must know that our Nelly's going to marry Count Hartmann!-Now isn't that something?You see she'll beat Anne hollow," relaxing into

a smile, as she began gossipping, "wont she Sir John ?"

Sir John very politely bowed, and wished the ladies good morning. As he passed through the hall, he heard a loud and obstreperous laugh, and his nose was regaled by the perfume of a meerschaum, both of which delectabilities he rightly conjectured to proceed from Count Hartmann, to whom also the britscha and the whiskered charioteer were appendages.

He was much mortified by his visit to the rich plebeians, though its result would have been easily foretold by any one but a man in love. Sir John had wooed himself into the belief, that Anne's connection with himself would, to a very great extent, elevate her to his own status, and, as a matter of course, free her from all rude and personal allusions. Mrs. Manford had done something towards breaking the illusion, and though she had been scarcely more civil to himself than to his betrothed wife, his entire vexation was on her account. As he rode back to Vale Hall he felt gloomy and disconcerted; Anne's sun-like smile of welcome was wanting; and as he shut himself up in the library, he almost persuaded himself into the belief, that he was about to do a very foolish thing, in marrying a foundling,

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE COUNT.

"Like a strutting player, whose conceit
Lies in his whiskers."

Troilus and Cressida.

The presence of Count Hartmann, at Factory Hall, indicated in the last chapter, and which had had a considerable influence upon Sir John Scarsbrook's reception there, had added no little dignity to the manufacturers. A ferocious looking man, mustachered profusely, a groom, bewhiskered in equal amplitude, and a britcsha, were no ordinary sights; and, therefore, they produced a sensation.

The count was one of those anomalies, who spring from nobody knows where, and who manage to thrust themselves into society by downright impudence and unblushing sangfroid. It is true, that these worthies generally represent themselves as coming from some obscure German state, in which they have a castle and some dependants, and their representations may be true. Be that as it may, however, certain it is, that the "usages de sociéte" are unable to keep out these occasional interlopers, who figure away for awhile, and then

make their final exit, on the discovery of some notable piece of diablerie.

Count Hartmann had been known to one or two of the officers, commanding the troops still stationed in the vicinity of the manufactories. Being on a provincial tour, as is customary with eminent foreigners, he had accidentally fallen in with one of these gentlemen, who had invited him to dinner with the mess. To this invite the count readily agreed, and during the repast, and over the subsequent bottle, he had heard a very animated narrative of the plebeian's ball, which was considered as a standing topic of amusement. This had led to a good deal of intercourse between the military and the natives, and the gentlemen whose sole business was to kill time, had found an inexhaustible resource in calling, ad libitum, upon the different families, by whom they were honourably received; and if eating and drinking could make men happy, they were now in elysium, at least as far as plenty

went.

The count had listened to these details with great attention, and as a good deal of jesting passed regarding the wiving amongst the wealthy vulgarians, he swore roundly that he wanted a wife, or at all events that he wanted money, and that he would set them an example. The laugh went round-and it was ultimately agreed that De l'Epeé, who was chief favourite, should on the morrow give him an introduction seriatum to the leading families; and that, having made his selection, he was to be allowed to push his matrimonial advances, without let or hindrance from his military friends.

The following day, Sir A. de L'Epeé and the count, set out on their tour of inspection; on many of the ladies, the only remark which could be ex

tracted from the foreigner was "Bête, bête, bête !" Matters, however, promised better at Manford's, as the daughter of Thomas Manford, one of Sir John's brother's was there-Miss Helen Manford, the Nelly of whom Mrs. Manford had spoken to Sir John Scarsbrook. Helen moving in a vulgar atmosphere, and having imbibed it from childhood, was vulgar, but her vulgarism was of a different stamp from that of her parents and their cotempo raries, for Helen had been at boarding-school, and had learned music and manners, two things utterly unknown to her respectable progenitors-however, Helen Manford was now between seventeen and eighteen years of age, an age when a woman, if not absolutely repulsive, must be worthy some attention; and here the count fixed his choice, and opened his campaign by an odd kind of civility, which he believed was sure to make an immediate impression upon the heart of the young lady.

His grimaces and mustachios, for a time, completely overcame the blushing Helen. His English, too, was by no means of the most orthodox purity; and as he ran on in a mingled patois of language, Mrs. Manford, the mother, thought him "of the extraordinest and curiosist men," she had either ever seen, or ever heard tell of.

After a somewhat prolonged interview, the count rose to depart, protesting, in the most decided manner, that—

6

"He put his love at her feet, and that he should never more look melancholy as long as he did live, but that he would take the liberty her beaux yeux' did give, to pay his duty to her on the following day. Yes," he ended, "I will have the one great happiness to kiss your hand, on the day of to-morrow; I shall be tout à fait mecontent' until that time; and I now wish you one farewell."