"I hope so; yes, of course, I shall do whatever is possible: I should be so extremely sorry to lose sight of her now." "She must be charming, from all you say," commented Georgiana, and then asked rather shyly and with a deep blush: "Did Cousin Robert like her too?" "Yes, he liked her very much, I think. You know, she played the harp, and he is so fond of anything to do with music." "Yes, I know," said Georgiana; and added, in a low voice: "I remember he would always much rather have listened to my playing than have talked to me." "Do not let yourself grieve, Georgiana," said Elizabeth, kissing the young girl's fair brow; "you know that Robert has the greatest possible regard for you, and you will find, next time you meet, that you are the best of friends." Georgiana smiled rather sadly; she often felt that she must have not only fallen in the estimation of a cousin she revered, but that she must also be possessed of no qualities capable of inspiring affection, and what was even worse, of no heart of her own to give. Elizabeth understood her well, and tried often to give her more self-confidence and to raise her lowly opinion of herself; but though she was growing less reserved, and more disposed little by little to trust her own judgments, the old habits of timidity, of reliance on the guidance of those whom she loved, were still strong in her. Elizabeth would often refuse to decide a thing for her, but when she was helped to weigh it in the balance, to judge it by all the standards available, her choice could always be recommended for discretion and clear-sightedness.