One we will be, and one our future cares, Our thoughts, our hopes, our wishes, and our prayers. LAURA. With both these little pieces Ellen was perhaps more pleased than their intrinsic merit warranted; but we naturally look with a partial eye on the performances of those we love. After looking over several other poetical attempts, and some beautiful drawings, they returned to Juliet's apartment, where they spent a delightful evening; for Juliet seemed materially mending, and Laura's spirits rose in proportion. Thus, and in similar pleasures, passed the time till the beginning of March, varied indeed by the occasional visits of the neighbouring families. One day, after a long solicitation, the St. Aubyns, Cecils, and some more of the most fashionable people near them, dined with Mrs. Dawkins, where they also met her tender friend and shadow, Miss Alton, who this day, for the first time in her life, was destined to offend that _sweet woman_, Mrs. Dawkins; for charmed to find herself seated on a sofa between "her _dearest_ Lady St. Aubyn," and that _most delightful_ man, General Morton, a veteran officer in the neighbourhood, at whom it was supposed Miss Alton had long _set her cap_, as the phrase is, she attended not to the hints, shrugs, and winks of her friend, who, not keeping a regular housekeeper, and being extremely anxious for the placing her first course properly, wished Miss Alton just to slip out and see it put on table: but vain were her wishes; and the cook, finding no aid-de-camp arrive, after waiting till some of the dishes were over-dressed, and others half cold, was obliged to act as commander-in-chief, and direct the disposition of the table herself; in which, not having clearly understood her mistress's directions (for in fact her anxiety to have all correct made them vary every half hour), she succeeded so ill, that when, after all her fretting and fuming, poor Mrs. Dawkins was told dinner was on table, that unfortunate Lady had nearly fainted at perceiving, when she entered the dining-room, that half the articles intended for the second course were crowded into the first, and roasted, ragoued, boiled, fried, sweet and sour, were jumbled together, in the finest confusion imaginable! "This is all _your_ fault," said Mrs. Dawkins, in a low voice, but with the countenance of a fury, to poor Alton: "you could not _stir_ to see it put down;" and pushing rudely by her, she left her staring with surprize, and wondering what had made the dear soul so very angry: but when she saw the blunders which were so obvious in the arrangement of the table, and recollected her own negligence (for in fact she had promised to see it set down), she was in her turn quite shocked.