latter, and to see her looking so lovely and blooming. Her countenance expresses so much sensibility, that one is convinced she must have a tender heart, and one hopes that life may always be kind to her. I had a great wish to invite her to pay us a visit when we returned to Winchester from London, and was disappointed to learn she had already travelled north. Will you mention it to her, and say how glad we should be if ever she was disposed to come in this direction? We would try to give her a pleasant time. Your children must be reaching a delightful age. Alas! with what a pang do I view our empty nursery! Accept my very cordial remembrances, and believe me," etc. It was well that Elizabeth had taken the precaution of being alone to read this letter, for the agitation it caused could not easily have been concealed. A thousand confusing thoughts surged through her mind. Action, of some sort, she felt she must take, being the only person of their circle in possession of this knowledge; but what action would be safe, prudent and productive of results? While believing that Fitzwilliam had been refused, she had always found it hard to credit that he should have been refused for Sir Walter Elliot, and the denial of the statement found willing acceptance. It was so unnatural, so horrible, almost, to think of Miss Crawford as Lady Elliot! Before Elizabeth had even time to think of Fitzwilliam she had rejoiced over Miss Crawford's not having committed an act so unworthy of her. She next tried to recollect exactly what she had heard with reference to Fitzwilliam's dismissal. He had been confident that she was lost to him, through her engagement, he assumed; but since she had never been engaged, clearly there had been indications which, as Darcy had said, had forced him to believe that she was ill-disposed towards him. What, then, could anyone do for him now? It was not by any means certain that because she had rejected Sir Walter Elliot she could be induced to accept Colonel Fitzwilliam. And yet the knowledge that she was free, free still to be won, was a reason for not withdrawing utterly until he knew what would be the fate of his own pretensions, taken on their own merit. Elizabeth could not feel satisfied, remembering what had happened at Bath, that he had ever had a fair opportunity of pleading his cause. He might, indeed, have had a refusal as definite as Sir Walter's, and in that case there would be no kindness in reopening the subject; it would profit him little to know that another suitor had fared no better than himself, even though that suitor might be one who should never have aspired. But what if it had all arisen through a misunderstanding?