She regretted, while she was too just to blame, her cousin's rapid oblivion of the sad scene so deeply engraven on her own memory, though she steadily endeavoured to cultivate a cheerful resignation, and sometimes was grateful for any interruption that drew her from the oppressive sadness and sense of loneliness, that often weighed on her spirits. Grief is something so repugnant to the young, that they involuntarily endeavour to throw it off. The morning sun gilds all things with its life-giving, beautifying light, it is only the lengthening shadows of evening to which tender sadness and lingering regret seem natural. And Kate's true-hearted efforts to submit unmurmuringly to her bitter loss, were seconded by her happy age; and again peace, like a dove, still fluttering its wings before settling in its nest, was slowly and surely returning to her. Lord Effingham's visits were not quite so frequent as before Lady Desmond's illness; but they were more agreeable to Kate; his manner was more real; he noticed her more--with the air of an elder relative, 'tis true--yet with a quiet, unremitting attention, obvious enough to herself, though scarcely noticeable, save to a very keen observer. The terms on which he had placed himself with Lady Desmond rather puzzled her; he devoted much of his time to her, was evidently an admirer of her beauty and agreeability; yet Kate could not help thinking there was more of the old friend, of the _habitué_ of the house, than the lover, in his tone and manner. Lady Desmond seemed, on the whole, happy enough, and met the warm advances of Mrs. Meredyth very cordially. "How do you like your new acquaintance?" asked Kate, the morning after Mrs. Meredyth's _soirée_. "Oh, well enough; they are abundantly civil; but not at all the sort of people you would fancy Lord Effingham's relatives to be. Madame Mere is fat and fair, and wonderfully preserved; she looks like his aunt, not grand-aunt; she is grave and quiet; the daughters are _very_ young ladies, of about thirty, I should think; they are scarcely good style; and I thought they would positively devour Colonel Dashwood and a Mr. Burton, and some other dragoons, who embellished the entertainment." "Burton!" repeated Kate; "I remember--" "And so does he," interrupted Lady Desmond; "Colonel Dashwood introduced him to me, and asked permission to bring him here to-day; he enquired for you very particularly, and said he had heard a great deal of you from a Captain or Colonel Egerton, a great ally of yours, I suspect." Kate sighed. "Was Lord Effingham there?" "Yes, rather to my astonishment; he seemed horridly bored, I could see that; for the species of worship offered to him, both by aunt and cousins, is exactly the sort of thing to disgust him." "If the Miss Meredyths are constantly engaged in devouring dragoons, and worshipping Lord Effingham, they must be busy indeed," said Kate.