"I am at least _pretty_; young, no one can deny; yet I am neglected for a number of old stupid men, a dull political discussion. Oh, those vile politics! how I hate them. And when he comes home, he will look so grave, so preoccupied! Oh, I wish there was no such thing in the world as a House of Lords or Commons. Is life itself long enough for love?--and must dull, dry business, consume the hours of youth, pale his cheek, perhaps blanch his hair, his beautiful hair, for they say care has whitened the locks even in one night! how very terrible this is."--And she arose, and walked to and fro in her room, and listened to every carriage that rolled by--then she took up Lalla Rookh--read some of the most impassioned passages, and wished herself a Peri. "I have but one wish," she said, "that wish is to be loved as I love."--Poor Lady Glenmore! this beautiful phantom of a young heart is, nevertheless, in the sense in which she framed it, a mere deceit. Love such as her's does _not_ grow by feeding on; there is a strength of character, a consciousness of self-dignity, the duties of a rational being, above all, the duties of a Christian, which must be cherished and understood, before any lasting fabric of happiness can be built on love. This was never more proved than in the restless impatience, the miserable (for such hours to such minds are miserable) anxiety and disappointment, which converted minutes into hours, and hours into ages, before Lord Glenmore returned. As she foresaw, when he did come, though he pressed her with almost rapturous tenderness to his heart, and inquired with trusting fondness at her party, hoping she had been well amused, he was himself so exhausted and harassed by business, that he professed himself unable to talk. "Why did you sit up for me, dearest?" he asked; "you will fatigue yourself uselessly; and I must really insist in future that you do not do so. At least, if you had been _amusing yourself_, I should, not be so sorry; but as it is, really Georgina, love, you must be better behaved in future--but why did you not go to the supper?" "I came home to see you," she answered in a tremulous voice. Lord Glenmore chided her lovingly, and assured her that he had not less anxiously desired to return to her; but he said, smiling,