They dined rather earlier than usual, that they might be in time for the opening of the oratorio, which Ellen was anxious to hear. Laura Cecil, in compliment to Lady Juliana, dined with them, and was quite delighted to see the affection, and even respect, with which she treated Lady St. Aubyn: for Lady Juliana was not a person to do things by halves; and having once conquered her own prejudices, was determined to give her niece all the consequence in her power with every other person, and would have been extremely angry with any one, who had dared to treat her with half the contempt she herself had done the day before. Once a friend, she was a friend for life, unless the object of her affections proved really undeserving, and then she hated with as much warmth as she had loved. Miss Cecil could not be persuaded to go with them to the theatre; and indeed Ellen was afterwards glad of it, for many of the songs were those which the sainted Juliet used to sing with so much sweetness and expression: and exquisitely as they were now performed, yet Ellen still felt something wanting. The soul that used to animate the eyes of Juliet, while she sung, was not there. The lips that had breathed those sacred strains, were so pure, so hallowed, that all the wonders of voice and science, now lavished for her entertainment, could not compensate to Ellen's mind for the pang she felt in recollecting that those eyes, those lips, were closed for ever. "Mute was the music of her tuneful breath, And quenched the radiance of her sparkling eyes." After this evening, Ellen's engagements became more frequent; but she was never seen in public, except with Lady Juliana, and seldom without her Lord. In vain did fashion dictate, or ridicule assail: the sly glance, the pointed sarcasm, alike were vain: she knew herself safe, her reputation secure, with protectors so respectable; yet there was nothing obtrusive or formal in St. Aubyn's attention to his lovely wife: he was neither inseparable from her side, or incapable of attention to any other lady, or expecting Ellen never to speak to any other gentleman. But it was obvious, without being intrusive, that each was the first object of the other, and that their mutual honour and happiness were the most interesting care of both. Hence no bold and disgusting flattery assailed the ears of Ellen; no forward flirting woman dared dispute with her the heart of St. Aubyn; so pure, so spotless was her character, that, raised as she had suddenly been to a rank which might easily excite the envy of those who thought they had a better claim to it, not even the bold license of the age we live in had dared to breathe one syllable against her.