"There is a warning that I have not disregarded," returned the youth, endeavouring to smile. "And what is it?" asked Charlotte, struck with the melancholy resignation of his manner. "That I am not fit company, just now, for hearts as gay as yours and Mr. Delafield's," he returned, and rising, he made a hasty bow and withdrew. "What can he mean?" said Charlotte, in amazement, "George does not appear well, and latterly his manner is much altered--what can he mean, Mr. Delafield?" "He is ill," said Delafield, far from feeling quite easy at the evident interest that the lady exhibited; "he is ill, and should be in his bed, instead of attending the morning levees of even Miss Henly." "Indeed, he is too regardless of his health," said Charlotte in a low tone, fixing her eyes on the grate, where she continued gazing for some time. Every effort of Seymour was made to draw off the attention of the young lady from a subject, that, however melancholy, seemed to possess peculiar charms for her. In this undertaking the gentleman would not have succeeded but for the fortunate appearance of Miss Osgood, who came into the room very opportunely to keep alive the discourse. "What, tete-a-tete!" exclaimed Maria; "you should discharge your footman, Charlotte, for saying that you were at home. A young lady is never supposed to be at home when she is alone--with a gentleman." "I shall then know how to understand the servant of Mr. Osgood, when I inquire for his daughter," cried Seymour gayly. "Ah! Mr. Delafield, it is seldom that I have an opportunity of hearing soft things, for I am never alone with a gentleman in my father's house"-- "And is Mrs. Osgood so rigid?" returned the gentleman; "surely the gravity of her daughter should create more confidence"-- "Most humbly I thank you, Sir," said Maria, courtseying low before she took the chair that he handed; "but it is not the caution of Mrs. Osgood that prevents any solos in her mansion, unless it be on a harp or flute, or any possibility of a tete-a-tete." "Now you have excited my curiosity to a degree that is painfully unpleasant," said Delafield, "I know you to be too generous not to allay it"-- "Oh! it is nothing more than a magical number, that frightens away all applicants for such a favour, unless indeed it may be such as would not be very likely to be successful were they to apply; and which even would render it physically impossible to have a tender interview within the four walls of the mansion"-- "It is a charmed number, indeed! and is it on the door? is it the number of the house?" "Oh! not at all--only the number of the family, the baker's dozen, that I mentioned last evening; now in visiting Miss Henly there is no such interruption to be apprehended." Charlotte could not refrain from smiling at the vivacity of her friend, who, perceiving that her wish to banish the look of care that clouded the brow of the other had vanished, changed the discourse as abruptly as she had introduced it.