"Maria!" she cried, "whither in such a hurry? I expected you to pass the morning with me." "I shall see your mother and return," replied Miss Osgood, closing the door so rapidly as to prevent further remark. This short speech, however, gave Charlotte time to observe the change that something had produced in the countenance of her old companion, where, in place of the thoughtless gaiety that usually shone in her features, was to be seen an expression of painful mortification; and even the high glow that youth and health had imparted to her cheeks, was supplanted by a death-like paleness. Delafield had been endeavouring to peruse the countenance of Miss Henley in a vain effort to discover the effect produced by his warm exclamation; and these observations, which were made by the quick eye of friendship, entirely escaped his notice. "Maria is not well, Mr. Delafield," Charlotte said hastily. "I know your goodness will excuse me while I follow her." The young man bowed with a mortified air, and was somewhat ungraciously beginning to make a polite reply, when the door opened a short space, and the voice of Miss Osgood was once more heard, saying in a forced, but lively manner-- "I never was better in my life; I shall run into Mrs. Morton's for ten minutes; let me find you here, Mr. Delafield, when I return." Her footstep was heard tripping along the passage, and in a moment after, the street door of the house opened and shut. Charlotte perceiving that her friend was determined, for some inexplicable reason, to be alone, quietly resumed her seat. Her musing air was soon changed to one of surprise, by the following remark of her companion. "You appear, Miss Henley," he said, "to be sensitively alive to the ailings of all you know but me." "I did not know that you were ill, Mr. Delafield! Really, sir, I never met with any gentleman's looks which so belied him, if you are otherwise than both well and happy." As much experience as Delafield possessed in the trifling manoeuvres of managers, or perhaps in the manifestations of feelings that are exhibited by every-day people, he was an absolute novice in the emotions of a pure, simple, ingenuous female heart. He was alive to the compliment to his acknowledged good looks, conveyed in this speech, but he was not able to appreciate the single-heartedness that prompted it. Perhaps his handsome face was as much illuminated by the consciousness of this emotion as by the deeper feelings he actually experienced, while he replied,-- "I am well, or ill, as you decree, Miss Henley; it is impossible that you should live in the world, and be seen, be known as you are, and must have been seen and known, and not long since learned the power you possess over the happiness of hundreds."