enjoying the scientifical jargon of Miss Webberly, as she was of comprehending the more fluent discourse of her sister, who had already talked over the contents of Slater's library with Miss Martin and Miss Lucas, and astonished them with a minute description of the last spring fashions. The arrival of the tea and coffee was therefore to her no unwelcome interruption. But the occupations attending the tea-table were scarcely commenced, when the approach of Sir Henry Seymour from the dining-room was announced by the quickly repeated sound of his knotted cane, which kept due measure with his hurried footsteps along the well polished floor of the hall, as it preserved the worthy baronet from its slippery influence. "Why, Selina! Mrs. Galton! Selina!" exclaimed he, hastily opening the door, "Who is it? what is it? are there any more asked to day? have I forgot any one? bless my stars!" "What is the matter?" exclaimed both ladies at once. "Matter!" quoth Sir Henry, "why a coach and four's the matter, and a man galloping like the devil up the long avenue is the matter. God forgive my swearing. Well, to be sure, that I should never have thought of them! Who can it be? I have certainly offended some of my neighbours! Good Lord!" The ladies had by this time thronged to the windows to see the unusual sight, except Miss Webberly, who affected to keep at a distance, though she could not refrain from peeping over their heads as she stood on tip-toe. At the same instant, all the family dogs joined in one chorus of welcome; and the equestrian, arriving at full speed, jumped off his horse, and pulling the door-bell with a vehemence it had seldom felt before, so electrified poor Sir Henry, that he almost unconsciously repaired with unpremeditated haste to the scene of action. "I say, old Square-toes," vociferated the stranger, "is this Harry Seymour's castle?" "Ye-e-s," answered its hospitable owner, whilst astonishment and indignation impeded his utterance. "Ye-es! why you look as queer as the castle spectre yourself. Well, send somebody for my horse, for here's my lord and lady; and, I say, order beds." Perhaps Sir Henry would in his turn equally have astonished his unexpected visitor, had not a sudden turn of the open barouche, as it approached the door, presented to his view the faces of Lord and Lady Eltondale. "Why, Gad's my life! Good Lord! Selina, here's your aunt! Good Lord! well to be sure!" The name of "aunt," a title that always called forth from Selina's affectionate heart sentiments of the tenderest gratitude and delight, acted like a talisman on the lovely girl, and brought her in an instant to the spot with sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and steps of fairy lightness; while Mrs. Galton, who better knew _the aunt_ she was about to meet, advanced to offer a more sober, though not less polite reception.