After a long discussion concerning the several merits and beauties of the several puppies, in which Lucy found Lord Montreville’s taste in dogs perfectly coincided with her own, the puppy was selected, and Lucy’s heart had again opened, her reserve had vanished, she had made up her mind that, for once, mamma was wrong, and she was right; that her’s had been the most correct estimate of Lord Montreville’s character. She asked him if he admired young donkeys. He confessed that if he had a weakness, it was for a little baby donkey, with a shaggy forehead and a pointed nose. Lucy’s eyes sparkled at such a proof of sympathy in her companion. She proposed to show him her pet. He eagerly assented, and they proceeded through the chicken-yard to the paddock where the donkeys were grazing. The chickens expected to be fed, and all gathered round Lucy’s feet; the donkeys instantly set up a most sonorous braying, and galloped to her with their uplifted heads. Lucy was amused, and began to laugh, and to pat, and stroke, and pinch the dear sensible creatures, when a turn in the shrubbery walk brought Mrs. Heckfield, Lord and Lady Bodlington, and Mr. Lyon to the opposite side of the paddock, which commanded a view of Lucy and Lord Montreville. Lucy felt her cheeks glow, and her mirth subside. Her mother, who could not but know through what ignoble paths she must have led Lord Montreville, would be more displeased than ever. She was sobered in an instant. Lord Montreville perceived the blush, and the change in her countenance, and flattered himself there was something gratifying to himself in her emotions. They retraced their steps, but Lucy was silent and abashed, and looked heartily ashamed of herself when they rejoined the party. Lord Montreville immediately addressed Mrs. Heckfield, informed her that “Miss Heckfield, at his earnest request, had allowed him to inspect the puppies, and to select the one he fancied; and that he had a childish passion for young donkeys, which she had also most kindly indulged.” Mrs. Heckfield saw that no harm was done, and she was soothed. Lucy thought him more good-natured than ever in thus averting the storm she saw impending, and gratitude was added to cement the union of their congenial souls. He now became a frequent visitor at Rosehill Lodge, and his manner gradually assumed more the tone of gallantry. Reports arose. Lucy was rallied by her young friends, and began to look into her feelings.