"Oh, yes, indeed," replied Ellen, animated and sparkling with the pleasing idea of serving her early friend, and of the joy his promotion would give his parents and sister, "nothing could give me more pleasure." "Not too much of that bright colour and sparkling eye, though, Ellen," said St. Aubyn, half in jest, half gravely: "I shall be jealous." "You have so much reason!" "Well, be cautious, I am in that point a Turk, and bear no rival _near_ the throne." Ellen, half vexed, would have said something, but embracing her tenderly, he stopt her by saying, "Not a word, my love, I am perfectly satisfied," and left her a little disconcerted, and half fearing that she had disturbed or displeased him. In the familiar intercourse which now took place between Miss Cecil and Lady St. Aubyn, the former shook off her reserve, and imparted to Ellen, not indeed all the particulars of her early disappointment, but that she had endured the most painful trials that the perfidy and inconsistent conduct of one sincerely loved could inflict; yet dignified on this, as on every other subject, she never expatiated upon it, or said any thing disrespectful of the author of her sufferings: though she never fully explained the cause of her separation from her unworthy lover, it was understood, that a full conviction of his bad conduct, and that his address to her had chiefly been induced by mercenary motives, had induced her to discard him, and to resist all his subsequent entreaties to be forgiven. One day, when Lord St. Aubyn and Sir William Cecil were engaged at a great public dinner in the neighbourhood, Ellen had the pleasure of dining tête-à-tête with her agreeable friend: they had spent two hours in Juliet's apartment, who every time they met gained more and more on Ellen's affections, and was become excessively attached to her, when the sweet girl, feeling fatigued, said she would lie down for an hour, and then she should be well enough to enjoy their company at tea, which she requested they would take in her apartment; they went therefore to pass this hour in Miss Cecil's dressing-room, who, opening a writing-desk to shew Ellen a drawing she had just finished, undesignedly displayed to the quick eye of Lady St. Aubyn a little book, marked "Manuscript Poetry." "Your own," said Ellen, laying her hand on it playfully, "or extracts?" "Why," returned Laura, "as Lord St. Aubyn thought proper to betray a secret which he learnt when we were children together, I will not deny that little volume contains some insignificant attempts of my own." "Oh let me see some of them, pray do," said Ellen: "assure yourself I will make no ill use of your confidence. I really am quite delighted with this opportunity, for I have long wished to see some specimens of your talents in this way." Thus urged, Laura allowed her to read two or three of the little poems contained in the volume, and at her earnest request, permitted her afterwards to have copies of the two following