Miss Milner, not having spirits to go abroad, passed the evening at home. She read part of a new opera, played upon her guitar, mused, sighed, occasionally talked with Miss Woodley, and so passed the tedious hours till near ten, when Mrs. Horton asked Mr. Sandford to play a game at piquet, and on his excusing himself, Miss Milner offered in his stead, and was gladly accepted. They had just begun to play when Lord Elmwood came into the room—Miss Milner’s countenance immediately brightened, and though she was in a negligent morning dress, and looked paler than usual, she did not look less beautiful. Miss Woodley was leaning on the back of her chair to observe the game, and Mr. Sandford sat reading one of the Fathers at the other side of the fire place. Lord Elmwood, as he advanced to the table, bowed, not having seen the ladies since the morning, or Miss Milner that day: they returned the salute, and he was going up to Miss Milner, (as if to enquire of her health) when Mr. Sandford, laying down his book, said, “My Lord, where have you been all day?” “I have been very busy,” replied he, and walking from the card-table, went up to him. Miss Milner played one card for another. “You have been at Mr. Fenton’s this evening, I suppose?” said Sandford. “No; not at all to-day.” “How came that about, my Lord?” Miss Milner played the ace of diamonds instead of the king of hearts. “I shall call to-morrow,” answered Lord Elmwood; and then walking with a very ceremonious air up to Miss Milner, said, “He hoped she was perfectly recovered.” Mrs. Horton begged her “To mind what she was about.” She replied, “I am much better, Sir.” He then returned to Sandford again; but never, during all this time, did his eye once encounter Miss Woodley’s; and she, with equal care, avoided his. Some cold dishes were now brought up for supper—Miss Milner lost her deal, and the game ended. As they were arranging themselves at the supper-table, “Do, Miss Milner,” said Mrs. Horton, “have something warm for your supper; a chicken boiled, or something of that kind; you have eat nothing to-day.” With feelings of humanity, and apparently no other sensation—but never did he feel his philanthropy so forcible—Lord Elmwood said, “Let me beg of you, Miss Milner, to have something provided for you.”