dinary, or it
appeared unusually ridiculous to an audience who did not detect the
under-current of reflection. His father would have been in despair,
Mrs. Ponsonby or Mary would have interposed; but the ladies of
Beauchastel laughed and encouraged him,--all but Isabel, who sat in the
window, and thought of Adeline, 'spighted and angered both,' by a
Navarrese coxcomb, with sleeves down to his heels, and shoes turned up
to his knees. She gave herself great credit for having already created
him a Viscount.

In the afternoon, Louis drove out lionizing with his aunt; but though
the ponies stopped of themselves at all the notable views; sea, hill,
and river were lost on him. Lady Conway could have drawn out a far
less accessible person, and her outpouring of his own sentiments made
him regard her as perfect.

She consulted him about her winter's resort. Louisa required peculiar
care, and she had thought of trying mineral baths--what was thought of
Northwold? what kind of houses were there? The Northwold faculty
themselves might have taken a lesson from Fitzjocelyn's eloquent
analysis of the chemical properties of the waters, and all old Mr.
Frost's spirit would seem to have descended on him when he dilated on
the House Beautiful. Lodgers for Miss Faithfull! what jubilee they
would cause! And such lodgers! No wonder he was in ecstasy. All the
evening the sound of his low, deliberate voice was unceasing, and his
calm announcements to his two little cousins were each one more
startling than the last; while James, to whom it was likewise all
sunshine, was full of vivacity, and a shrewd piquancy of manner that
gave zest to all he said, and wonderfully enlivened the often rather
dull circle at Beauchastel.

Morning came; and when the ladies descended to breakfast, it was found
that Lord Fitzjocelyn had gone out with the sportsmen. The children
lamented, and their elders pronounced a young gentleman's passion for
shooting to be quite incalculable. When, late in the day, the party
returned, it was reported that he did not appear to care much for the
sport; but had walked beside Mr. Mansell's shooting-pony, and had
finally gone with him to see his model farm. This was a sure road to
the old squire's heart, and no one was more delighted with the guest.
For Aunt Catharine's sake, Louis was always attracted by old age, and
his attentive manners had won Mr. Mansell's heart, even before his
inquiries about his hobby had comp