Miss Wycherly left the hall, and watched Julia's departure through a window more retired from observation. There was only Charles Spottiswoode to listen, and to him her lamentation was addressed. She told her lover all her fears and all her thoughts respecting Julia's marriage; the melancholy idea took possession of her mind, that Lord Ennismore was unsuited to her friend's character, and, though there was nothing tangible in his lordship's behaviour to elicit a strong objection, there was a decided difference in his character, a manner totally opposed to the character and kindly bearing of her cousin Tom, which must affect every body's mind and opinions. She had an ominous foreboding that Julia would be unhappy, and never would she marry Charles Spottiswoode, unless he would swear, under all reports, under all circumstances, to receive Julia Wetheral at Lidham; yes, though she became a worthless thing, poor, miserable, and contemptible. "Swear it to me, Charles," she cried, "swear it now, ere the carriage-door closes on my friend, and carries her from my sight!" "I do, Penelope," replied Spottiswoode, kindly. "Lady Ennismore will find me her warm friend in every trial; but, why are you so fearful and foreboding _now_? Why do your fears gain such influence and mastery at this moment of time, when her heart is calm, and _his_ affection is undisputed?" "God help me, Charles! but, as Julia came from the library just now, she looked like a lamb led to the slaughter. Did you read the expression of Lady Ennismore, the mother's eyes?" "I did not observe her. I was watching _your_ eyes, Penelope." Miss Wycherly heeded not the words which at another time would have soothed and pleased; she became restless as Julia lingered on the steps with her mother, and her desire was to see Julia once more before she quitted Wetheral, to embrace her yet again, and repeat offers of kindness, which must be totally useless to Lady Ennismore, though they relieved her heart to utter them. Charles Spottiswoode urged her to remain, and avoid giving renewed pain to her friend, who had felt evidently struck by the ominous farewell; but Miss Wycherly would hear no objection to her anxiety. She advanced hurriedly to the door, but Charles stood before her, playfully holding her hands, and entreating her to resume her seat. The little strife of lovers did not last many moments; the sound of carriage-wheels caused Miss Wycherly to rush past her companion, and enter the hall. Julia was gone. CHAPTER XI.