One of the first persons Julia distinguished amid the company, as she entered Mrs. Parker's drawing-room, was Mrs. Cunningham, who gave her a nod, and an exulting smile, as much as to say—“you see I have carried the day!” Julia had endeavored to arm herself for this evening's trial, should Miss Eldon make one of the company; and accordingly she was not surprised, and not much moved, when she saw her husband conversing with that young lady. She was too delicate in feeling, too refined in manner, to watch them, even long enough to catch the expression of Mr. Westbury's face; but resolutely turning her eyes another way, she endeavored to enter into conversation with the persons near her. Mr. Westbury had not been in Mrs. Parker's drawing-room half an hour, ere Miss Eldon contrived to place herself in such a situation as to render it impossible for him to avoid addressing her; and this point once gained, to escape from her was impracticable. A strong sense of honor alone led him to wish to escape, as to be near her was to him the most exquisite happiness; but the greater the delight, the more imminent the danger; of this he was sensible, and it was not without some resistance that he yielded to her fascination. Could she once secure his attention, Miss Eldon well knew how to get at his heart; and at those moments when she was sure that no ear heard, and no eye observed her but his own, she let an occasional touch of the _penserosa_ mingle so naturally with her half subdued sprightliness, as to awaken, in all their original strength, those feelings, and those regrets, he was striving to subdue. For the time he forgot every thing but that they mutually loved, and were mutually unhappy. They had been standing together a considerable length of time when they were joined by Mr. Cunningham, who abruptly remarked— “You don't enjoy yourself this evening, Westbury.” “What makes you think so?” Mr. Westbury inquired. “You look worn out, just as I feel,” answered Mr. Cunningham. “How strange it is,” he added, “that married men will ever suffer themselves to be drawn into such crowds!” “Why not married men, as well as bachelors?” asked Miss Eldon. “Because they relinquish real happiness and comfort, for a fatiguing pleasure—if pleasure it can be called,” answered Cunningham. “One's own hearth and one's own wife, is the place, and the society, for unalloyed enjoyment. Am I not right, Westbury?” Miss Eldon turned her eyes on Mr. Westbury, as she waited to hear his answer, and an expression, compounded of curiosity, contempt, and satisfaction, met his eye. It was the first time he had ever remarked an unlovely, an unamiable expression on her countenance. He calmly replied to Mr. Cunningham— “Unquestionably the pleasures of domestic life are the most pure, the most rational, that can be enjoyed.”