“There's your uncle stealing away to bed,” said Repton, “and fancying that nobody remarks him. Shall I be cruel enough to mar the project? Martin--Martin--come here for a moment; we want your opinion on a knotty point.” “I know what it is,” said Martin, smiling; “the question under discussion is, “whether you or Mr. Massingbred were the more successful to-day?'” “I think Mr. Massingbred may claim the prize,” said Mary Martin, with a sly whisper; “he made Lady Dorothea cry.” “Ay,” said Repton, “but _I_ made young Nelligan laugh!” And now the party broke up, Massingbred lingering a little behind to say something to Miss Henderson, and then betaking himself to his chamber, well satisfied with his day, and the change it had wrought in his fortunes. Perhaps a few passages from a letter that he, on that same night, penned to one of his friends in Dublin, will not be ill-timed as an exponent of his sentiments. The letter was written, directing certain articles of dress to be forwarded to him at once, by coach, and contained these paragraphs:-- “You now know how I came here: the next thing is to tell you of the place itself. The house is large and admirably _montée_--abundance of servants, well drilled, and orderly. The master a nonentity, apparently; easy-tempered and good-humored; liking the quiet monotony of his humdrum life, and only asking that it may not be interfered with. His wife, a fine lady of the school of five-and-forty years ago,--a nervous terrorist about mob encroachments and the democratic tendencies of the times,--insufferably tiresome on genealogies and 'connections,' and what many would call downright vulgar in the amount of her pretension. Gratitude--for I have the honor of being a favorite already--seals my lips against any further or harsher criticism. As for the niece, she is decidedly handsome; a great deal of style about her too; with a degree of--shall I call it daring? for it is more like courage than any other quality--that tells you she is the uncontrolled ruler over the wild regions and wild people around her. With more of manner, she would be very charming; but perhaps she is better in the unfettered freedom of her own capricious independence: it certainly suits her to perfection. And now I should have completed my catalogue, if it were not for the governess. Ay, Harry, the governess! And just fancy, under this unimposing title, a dark-eyed, haughty-looking girl--I don't think she can be above twenty or twenty-one--with a carriage and port that might suit an Archduchess of Austria. She has travelled all over Europe--been everywhere--seen everything, and, stranger again, everybody; for she was what they style a companion. By Jove! she must have been a very charming one; that is, if she liked it; for if she did not, Hal!--At all events, here she is; only having arrived the very day before myself; so that we are free to discuss the family, and compare notes together, in the most confidential fashion.