Since the death of the late Earl, she had not been in town; nor had the present Earl been near the place where she resided, since the week in which her lover died; of course, nothing similar to love could have been declared at so early a period; and if it had been made known at a later, it must only have been by letter, or by the deputation of Mr. Sandford, who they knew had been once in the country to visit her; but how little he was qualified to enforce a tender passion, was a comfortable reflection. Revived by these conjectures, of which some were true, and others false; the very next day a gloom overspread their bright prospects, on Mr. Sandford’s saying, as he entered the breakfast-room, “Miss Fenton, ladies, desired me to present her compliments.” “Is she in town?” asked Mrs. Horton. “She came yesterday morning,” returned Sandford, “and is at her brother’s, in Ormond-street; my Lord and I supped there last night, and that made us so late home.” Lord Elmwood entered soon after, and bowing to his ward, confirmed what had been said, by telling her, that “Miss Fenton had charged him with her kindest respects.” “How does poor Miss Fenton look?” Mrs. Horton asked Lord Elmwood. To which question Sandford replied, “Beautiful—she looks beautifully.” “She has got over her uneasiness, I suppose then?” said Mrs. Horton—not dreaming that she was asking the questions before her new lover. “Uneasy!” replied Sandford, “uneasy at any trial this world can send? That would be highly unworthy of her.” “But sometimes women do fret at such things:” replied Mrs. Horton, innocently. Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner—“If she meant to ride, this delightful day?” While she was hesitating— “There are different kinds of women,” (said Sandford, directing his discourse to Mrs. Horton;) “there is as much difference between some women, as between good and evil spirits.” Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner again—If she took an airing? She replied, “No.” “And beauty,” continued Sandford, “when endowed upon spirits that are evil, is a mark of their greater, their more extreme wickedness. Lucifer was the most beautiful of all the angels in Paradise”— “How do you know?” said Miss Milner. “But the beauty of Lucifer,” (continued Sandford, in perfect neglect and contempt of her question,) “was an aggravation of his guilt; because it shewed a double share of ingratitude to the Divine Creator of that beauty.” “Now you talk of angels,” said Miss Milner, “I wish I had wings; and I should like to fly through the park this morning.” “You would be taken for an angel in good earnest,” said Lord Elmwood. Sandford was angry at this little compliment, and cried, “I should think the serpent’s skin would be much more characteristic.” “My Lord,” cried she, “does not Mr. Sandford use me ill?” Vext with other things, she felt herself extremely hurt at this, and made the appeal almost in tears. “Indeed, I think he does.” And he looked at Sandford as if he was displeased.