Percy-hall was really a beautiful place, and Miss Arabella Falconer now looked at it with the pleasure of anticipated possession. Sir Robert Percy was not at home, he had been obliged that morning to be absent on some special business; but he had left orders with his steward and housekeeper to show the party of visitors the house and grounds. In going through the apartments they came to the gallery leading to the library, where they were stopped by some workmen’s trestles, on which were lying two painted glass windows, one that had been taken down, and another which was to be put in its stead. Whilst the workmen were moving the obstacles out of the way, the company had leisure to admire the painted windows. One of them was covered with coats of arms: the other represented the fire at Percy-hall, and the portrait of Caroline assisting the old nurse down the staircase. This painting immediately fixed Count Altenberg’s eye, and Miss Georgiana Falconer, not knowing whose portrait it was, exclaimed, as she looked at the figure of Caroline, “Beautiful! Exquisite! What a lovely creature that is assisting the old woman!” “Yes,” said Count Altenberg, “it is one of the finest countenances I ever beheld.” All the ladies eagerly pressed forward to look at it. “Beautiful! Don’t you think it is something like Lady Anne Cope?” said Miss Falconer. “Oh! dear, no!” cried Miss Georgiana Falconer: “it is a great deal handsomer than any of the Copes ever were, or ever will be!” “It has a look of Lady Mary Nesbitt,” said one of the Lady Arlingtons. “The eyes are so like Lady Coningsby, who is my delight,” said Georgiana. “And it has quite the Arlington nose,” said Mrs. Falconer, glancing her eye upon the Lady Arlingtons. Count Altenberg, without moving his eye, repeated, “It is the most beautiful face I ever beheld.” “Not nearly so beautiful as the original, sir,” said the painter. “The original?--Is it a copy?” “A portrait, sir.” “Oh! a family portrait of one of our great, great grandmother Percys, I suppose,” said Miss Georgiana, “done in her youth--in a fancy piece, you know, according to the taste of those times--she must have been superlatively lovely.” “Ma’am,” said the painter, “the young lady, of whom this is a portrait, is, I hope and believe, now living.” “Where?--and who can she be?--for I am sure I don’t recollect ever having seen her in all my life--never met her in town any where--Pray, sir, who may it be?” added she, turning to the artist, with a mixture of affected negligence and real pride. “Miss Caroline Percy, ma’am.” “A daughter of Sir Robert Percy--of the gentleman of this house?” said Count Altenberg eagerly. Mrs. Falconer, and her daughter Georgiana, answered rapidly, with looks of alarm, as they stood a little behind the count.