“I dare say it was quite by accident,” rejoined Frances; “and how picturesque the effect was,” she continued, turning to Lady Susan, “of the little skiff with its one white sail, appearing and disappearing round points of rock; the one reclining figure playing on the flute, the two dogs seated, one on each side, listening with profound attention, till at some dying cadence, pointing their noses upward, they would utter a long and piteous wail! while the rapt musician himself seemed unconscious not only of their wild accompaniment, and that of all the echoes far and near, but even of his own performance.” “He thought himself a perfect hero of romance, I have no doubt,” replied her ladyship. “Well!” cried Frances, “I do not think there was any appearance of affectation about him.” “Whoever he is,” rejoined Henry, “he had better not wander about these woods in his long feathers, or I shall be apt to shoot him in mistake for a pheasant.” “Henry, you had better take care what you do!” said Frances. “You are much too fond, let me tell you, of killing of every kind.” “Talking of shooting, what have you done with that fine setter of yours, St. Aubin?” asked Lord Morven. “Shot him!”—“Why, for heaven’s sake?” “The rascal leaped up on me with his dirty feet, after I was dressed for dinner, the other day.” “Shame! shame! Henry!” exclaimed both the sisters, at the same moment. “Too bad, faith,” cried the gentlemen. Frances began to tell Henry that nobody would ever love him, he was so wicked. He affected to laugh, and whispered Julia as he passed, loud enough, however, for Edmund, who was on the other side, to hear. “What do _you_ say to that, Julia?” At the same time, accompanying his words with an insidious look of tender, confiding enquiry. She was astonished, but had not presence of mind to reply: and even Edmund, at the time, only thought Henry impertinent. The party had now arrived in front of the house. CHAPTER IV. “Here the bright diamond and the ruby take The rose’s form; and the deep amethyst The violet; while the modest pearl blends Its moonlight lustre with the sunny gem.” While all were taking their places at the breakfast table, Lady Susan was so obliging in making room for every one, that at last she found herself seated next to our hero. But, alas! Julia was on his other side. To do him justice, however, he helped her ladyship abundantly, too abundantly indeed to many things she did not want: he even had the unparalleled generosity to offer her, and that with a sudden start of recollection, his cup of tea when she had one of her own; he also turned and begged her pardon, more than once, when it was not to him she had addressed herself. “You see,” whispered Lord Borrowdale, who, for lack of room near Julia, had seated himself on the other side of Lady Susan, “poor Montgomery is so bewildered by the radiance of your ladyship’s smiles, that he actually does not know what he is doing.”