Mr. Singleton turned to look for George Gage, but he, in the same moment, offered his arm to Margaret and led her off. Harriet saw the man[oe]uvre by which he avoided being her neighbour at dinner; she willingly accepted the arm of Mr. Humphries, transferred herself to the opposite side of the table, just under Mr. Gage's eye, and then began a very systematic flirtation with her partner. She talked to him of dogs and horses until he became really animated, and so engrossed that he could hardly be made to understand that Mr. Singleton wished to take wine with him. She complimented him on his choice in those articles until she so overpowered him with pleasant confusion that he repeatedly threatened to disappear under the table-cloth, and she suffered him to talk upon choir singing, opera singing, glee singing, and all other singing, with an eager interest that was sufficiently visible to the whole table. Margaret glanced uneasily at Mr. Gage, who had placed himself beside her. Once or twice, when Harriet was most animated, he glanced at her and her companion with an air of some surprise and curiosity, but with a more complete appearance of indifference than might have been expected. It was plain that he was not quite so much the slave of her flexible moods as Harriet would fain have made him. And Margaret thought with a sigh, that these two persons, so strongly and constantly attached, would go through life without ever coming to an understanding, because each was too proud to let the other see how unchanged their first feelings had remained. To the company around the table, Mr. Gage appeared to be entirely engrossed by his beautiful neighbour, in whose ear he was whispering a variety of pleasing nothings; while the match between Harriet and Mr. Humphries, long pending and often doubted, was now declared to be finally arranged. They had made and accepted the proposal at the pond, and she was civil to him, at last, in her manners. It was high time that she should be civil to some one--perhaps marriage would improve her--and really she had been out some years, and was glad, no doubt, to take any one who came forward. So said Mrs. Pottinger and Mrs. Markham; and Harriet's spoilt and wayward temper left no milder impression upon the greater number of her country neighbours. But Mr. Singleton, when the dessert was set on the table, observed, with some alarm, the flushed cheek and sparkling eye of his niece. "Hallo, Harriet!" he exclaimed. "Well, Sir," she replied. "What is the matter with you?" "Nothing at all, good uncle; let me recommend you to attend to your claret, instead of staring me out of countenance." "Don't go and catch cold again--that's all," said Mr. Singleton. "Never fear, Sir," returned Harriet, shortly. "Are you subject to colds?" asked Mr. Humphries. "Not at all. I have one now and then, like other people." "You have them very badly when they do come," said Mr. Singleton.