His eyes wandered anxiously as though in search of something in the midst of all his civility, and while the Major was sending Eugene to bring Mr. Arden--who was hanging back at the churchyard gate, unwilling to thrust himself forward--the faltering question was put, while the cheeks coloured like a girl’s, “I hope my fair partner, my youngest cousin, Miss Aurelia Delavie, is in good health?” “We hope so, sir, thank you,” returned Betty; “but she left us six days ago.” “Left you!” he repeated, in consternation that overpowered his courtliness. “Yes, sir,” said Harriet, “my Lady, your mother, has been good enough to send for her to London.” “My Lady!” he murmured to himself; “I never thought of that! How and when did she go?” The answer was interrupted by the Major coming up “Sir Amyas Belamour, permit me to present to you the Reverend Richard Arden, the admirable divine to whom we are beholden for the excellent and learned discourse of this morning. You’ll not find such another scholar in all Carminster.” “I am highly honoured,” returned the baronet, with a bow in return for Mr. Arden’s best obeisance, such as it was; and Harriet, seeing Peggy Duckworth in the distance, plumed herself on her probable envy. Before dinner was served Sir Amyas had obtained the information as to Aurelia’s departure, and even as to the road she had taken, and he had confessed that, “Of course he had write to his mother that he had danced with the most exquisitely beautiful creature he had ever seen, and that he longed to know his cousins better.” No doubt his mother, having been thus reminded of her connections, had taken the opportunity of summoning Aurelia to London to give her the advantages of living in her household and acquiring accomplishments. The lad was so much delighted at the prospect of enjoying her society that he was almost consoled for not finding her at the Manor House; and his elaborate courtesy became every moment less artificial and more affectionate, as the friendly atmosphere revealed that the frankness and simplicity of the boy had not been lost, captain in the dragoon guards as he was, thanks to interest, though he had scarcely yet joined his troop. He had been with a tutor in the country, until two years ago, when his stepfather, Mr. Wayland, had taken him, still with his tutor, on the expedition to the Mediterranean. He had come home from Gibraltar, and joined his regiment only a few weeks before setting out with his friend Captain Herries, to visit Battlefield, Lady Aresfield’s estate in Monmouthshire. He was quartered in the Whitehall barracks, but could spend as much time as he pleased at his mother’s house in Hanover Square.