f it, but you are more on the scene of
action.'

'She could do much better, with such expectations, but on his account I
could not be sorry. It is shocking to think of that nice young sister
being a governess. I think it a duty to give her every advantage that
may tend to form her. With her connexions and education, I can have no
objection to her as a companion to your cousins, and with a few
advantages, though she will never be handsome, she might marry well.
They are a most interesting family. Isabel and I are most anxious to do
all in our power for them.'

'Clara is obliged,' said Louis, with undetected irony, but secret
wonder at the dexterity with which the patronage must have been
administered so as not to have made the interesting family fly off at a
tangent.

Isabel made her appearance in her almost constant morning dress of soft
dove-coloured merino entirely unadorned, and looking more like a maiden
in a romance than ever. She had just left Adeline standing on the
steps of a stone cross, exhorting the Provencals to arm against a
descent of Moorish corsairs, and she held out her hand to Fitzjocelyn
much as Adeline did, when the fantastic Viscount professed his
intention of flying instead of fighting, and wanted her to sit behind
him on his courser.

Lady Conway pronounced her council complete, and propounded the fete
which she wished to give on the 12th of January in honour of Louisa's
birthday. Isabel took up a pencil, and was lost in sketching wayside
crosses, and vessels with lateen sails, only throwing in a word or two
here and there when necessary. Dancing was still, Lady Conway feared,
out of the question with Fitzjocelyn.

'And always will be, I suspect. So much for my bargain with Clara to
dance with her at her first ball!'

'You like dancing?' exclaimed Isabel, rejoiced to find another
resemblance to the fantastic Viscount.

'Last year's Yeomanry ball was the best fun in the world!'

'There, Isabel,' said Lady Conway, 'you ought to be gratified to find a
young man candid enough to allow that he likes it! But since that
cannot be, I must find some other plan--'

'What cannot be?' exclaimed Louis. 'You don't mean to omit the
dancing--'

'It could not be enjoyed without you. Your cousins and friends could
not bear to see you sitting down--'

Isabel's lips were compressed, and the foam of her waves laughed
scornfully under her pencil.

'They must get accustomed to the melancholy s