And Harriet went on eagerly planning a visit with Margaret to her sister, as soon as Lord and Lady Raymond were settled at Wardenscourt. Mr. Gage seemed for a wonder to be completely puzzled. He remained gazing at Harriet in the greatest uncertainty, endeavouring to reconcile to himself the sparkling and mischievous enjoyment that her looks expressed, with the misery she must be feeling upon the destruction of all her ambitious hopes. Harriet, regardless of those remorseless eyes, went on conversing gaily with Mr. Humphries and two or three other gentlemen; while Mr. Gage sometimes concluded that she was the best actress in the world; sometimes, that as her heart was not engaged in the matter, she was able to bear without much pain the loss of a good match; sometimes, that whatever her feelings might have been, she intended to console herself with the hand of Mr. Humphries. This idea filled him with indignation; for Mr. Humphries, without the merit of a title, was more unprepossessing in appearance than Lord Raymond himself; and Mr. Gage, like many men in the army, thought, that next to good birth and the glory of serving Her Majesty, stood the inestimable and incalculable advantage of possessing a fine person. "Harriet is looking well, don't you think?" said Mr. Singleton, coming up to Mr. Gage. The fact was too incontestible to admit of a dispute, for Harriet was looking handsomer than ever she had done in her life; and Mr. Gage said so. Harriet was at a little distance, about to leave the room for the night. Margaret rose to follow her. "Ah!" said Mr. Singleton, on hearing Mr. Gage's flattering opinion of his niece, "Well, never mind; it will all come right one day yet." Margaret overheard the exclamation, given in the hearty tone of the old sportsman; and Harriet's former remark seemed to ring in her ears: "These things never do come right again, Margaret." CHAPTER III. Wordes sharply wound, but greatest grief of scorning growes. SPENSER. Tal d'un alma l'effanno sepolto Si travede in un riso fallace, Chè la pace mal finge nel volto Chi si sente la guerra nel cor. METASTASIO. Mr. Singleton breakfasted at nine o'clock; and it was the custom of the house for everybody to appear at that meal. At half past eight, the worthy squire read prayers in the chapel; and at this ceremony all the servants, and such visitors as pleased, attended. This had been a custom in the house from the days of Edward the Sixth; and Mr. Singleton would on no account have omitted it; though his performance of this duty was something odd. Any one might have thought from his tones, that he was calling over the names of his hounds. Margaret made a point of attending; and found Mrs. Singleton, Harriet, and Mr. Humphries assembled.