It is impossible to tell you how Frances Hildyard was idolized--how indulged. This is no ideal story, and I speak but of things as they were. When only seven years of age, she dined at table with her parents, at their late dinner-hour. Her will was law in the house; the very servants, taking their tone from their superiors, made her their idol, or professed to do so. The most insidious flatteries were poured into her ear, and every hour in the day, one eagerly drank-in theme was whispered there--the beauty of Miss Frances. This indulgence, coupled with that fostered vanity, brought forth its fruits--and can you wonder at it? Good seeds were in her heart--good, holy seeds, planted in it by God, as they are in the heart of all; but in lieu of being carefully fostered and pruned, they were let run to waste, and the baneful weeds overgrew them. A governess was provided for her, a kind, judicious Catholic woman. Send Frances to the convent, indeed! What object would Mr. and Mrs. Hildyard have had to doat upon had their precious child been removed from their sight? Mrs. Mainwaring was anxious for the welfare of her charge, and to do her duty; but Frances was the most rebellious pupil. The governess appealed to the mother, and Mrs. Hildyard, with showers of kisses and presents, implored Frances to be more attentive; but Frances heard her whisper to the governess not to be harsh with her darling child. It was a continued scene of struggle for mastery, and Mrs. Mainwaring threw up her engagement. A French lady was procured in her place, who had the accommodation, to use no more reprehensible term, to assimilate her views to those of Miss Frances. And so she grew up; her extreme beauty palliating to the household all her little willful faults, and the admiration she excited filling the very crevices of her heart. To hear the echo of the word "beautiful" coupled with Frances Hildyard, was of itself, to her, worth living for. But soon one was to come, for whose admiration she would alone care, one for whose step she would learn to listen, and in whose absence existence would be irksome. She was the first, on the evening which has been mentioned, to enter the drawing-room, after dressing for dinner. Her attire proved she had not forgotten that a noble stranger was to partake of their hospitality. Mr. Hildyard was standing before the fire with a gentleman. They both moved as she advanced, and her father, taking her hand, said, "My love, allow me to introduce Lord Winchester. Your lordship sees my youngest daughter, Miss Frances Hildyard." She saw that he was young and handsome--she saw that he was noble and courteous beyond any that she had hitherto formed acquaintance with, but she saw not the whole of his fascinations then. He led Mrs. Hildyard in to dinner, and sat next to her; Frances was on his other hand. The two elder sisters, in their quiet gray silk dresses, sat opposite, and Mr. Hildyard occupied his customary place at the foot of the table.