The first page was from Lady Elizabeth, and only expressed her commands, given in her usual peremptory tone, but nevertheless mixed with much kindness, that Agnes should leave London with as little delay as possible, and consider her house as her home till such time as an eligible situation could be found, in which her own excellent talents might furnish her with a safer and more desirable manner of existence than any her aunt Barnaby could offer. The remainder of the letter was filled by Lady Stephenson, and expressed the most affectionate anxiety for her welfare; but she too referred to the hope of being able to find some situation that should render her independent; so that it was sufficiently evident that neither of them as yet had any idea that this independence might be the gift of Colonel Hubert. "It is nonsense to suppose they will ever consent to it," thought Agnes; and this time her spirits were not so exalted as to make her breathe her thoughts aloud; "but I never can be so miserable again as I have been ... it is enough happiness for any one person in this life ... that everybody says is not a happy one ... it is quite enough to know that Hubert loves me ... Oh Hubert!... noble Hubert! how did I dare to fix my fancy on thee?... Presumptuous!... But yet he loves me!" And with this balm, acting like a gentle opiate upon her exhausted spirits, she slept all night, and dreamed of Hubert. The four o'clock delivery of the post on the following day brought her this letter from her aunt Barnaby. "DEAR AGNES,