She was evidently distressed. Her emotion prevented her replying. But it was the emotion of surprise, not of resentment. Her confusion bore no symptoms of displeasure. Blushing and hesitating, she at last said: "My father, sir--my mother." Here her voice failed her. I recollected with joy that on the application of Lord Staunton she had allowed of no such reference, nay, she had forbidden it. "I take your reference joyfully," said I, "only tell me that if I am so happy as to obtain their consent, you will not withhold yours." She ventured to raise her timid eyes to mine, and her modest but expressive look encouraged me almost as much as any words could have done. At that moment the door opened, and in came Sir John with the other drawing of the conservatory in his hand. After having examined us both with his keen, critical eye; "Well, Miss Stanley," said he, with a look and tone which had more meaning than she could well stand, "here is the other drawing. As you look as if you had been _calmly_ examining the first, you will now give me your _cool, deliberate_ opinion of the merits of both." He had the cruelty to lay so much stress on the words, cool, calm, and deliberate, and to pronounce them in so arch a manner, and so ironical a tone, as clearly showed, he read in her countenance that no epithets could possibly have been so ill applied. Lady Belfield came in immediately after. "Well, Caroline," said he, with a significant glance, "Miss Stanley has deeply considered the subject since you went; I never saw her look more interested about any thing. I don't think she is dissatisfied on the whole. General approbation is all she now expresses. She will have time to spy out faults hereafter: she sees none at present. All is beauty, grace, and proportion." As if this was not enough, in ran Celia quite out of breath--"Oh, Lucilla," cried she, "papa and mamma won't let you go with Charles, though I told them you begged and prayed to go." Lucilla, the pink of whose cheeks was become crimson, said angrily, "How Celia! what do you mean?" "Oh, no," replied the child, "I mean to say that _I_ begged and prayed, and I thought you looked as if you would like to go, though Charles did not ask you, and so I told papa." This was too much. The Belfields laughed outright; but Lady Belfield had the charity to take Lucilla's hand, saying, "Come into my dressing-room, my dear, and let us settle this conservatory business. This prattling child will never let us get on." Miss Stanley followed, her face glowing with impatience. Celia, whom I detained, called after her, "Papa only said there was not room in the curricle for three; but if it is only a little way, I am sure we could sit, could we not, Lucilla?" Lucilla was now happily out of hearing.