n the
world; but it does not prove us. It fattens and strengthens us, just as
the sun does. Adversity is the inspector of our constitutions; she simply
tries our muscle and powers of endurance, and should be a periodical
visitor. But, until she comes, no man is known. Wilfrid was not
absolutely engaged to Lady Charlotte (she had taken care of that), and
being free, and feeling his heart beat in more lively fashion, he turned
almost delightedly to the girl he could not escape from. As when the
wriggling eel that has been prodded by the countryman's fork, finds that
no amount of wriggling will release it, to it twists in a knot around the
imprisoning prong. This simile says more than I mean it to say, but those
who understand similes will know the measure due to them.

There sat Emilia on her horse. "Has Gambier been giving her lessons?"
thought Wilfrid. She sat up, well-balanced; and, as he approached, began
to lean gently forward to him. A greeting 'equal to any lady's,' there
was no doubt. This was the point Emilia had to attain, in his severe
contemplation. A born lady, on her assured level, stood a chance of
becoming a Goddess; but ladyship was Emilia's highest mark. Such is the
state of things to the sentimental fancy when girls are at a
disadvantage. She smiled, and held out both hands. He gave her one,
nodding kindly, but was too confused to be the light-hearted cavalier.
Lady Charlotte walked up to her horse's side, after receiving Captain
Gambier's salute, and said: "Come, catch hold of my hands and jump."

"No," replied Emilia; "I only came to see him."

"But you will see him, and me in the bargain, if you stay."

"I fancy she has given her word to return early," interposed Wilfrid.

"Then we'll ride back with her," said Lady Charlotte. "Give me five
minutes. I'll order a horse out for you."

She smiled, and considerately removed the captain, by despatching him to
the stables.

A quivering dimple of tenderness hung for a moment in Emilia's cheeks, as
she looked upon Wilfrid. Then she said falteringly, "I think they wish to
be as we do."

"Alone?" cried Wilfrid.

"Yes; that is why I brought him over. He will come anywhere with me."

"You must be mistaken."

"No; I know it."

"Did he tell you so?"

"No; Mr. Powys did."

"Told you that Lady Charlotte--"

"Yes. Not, is; but, was. And he used that word...there is no word like
it,...he said 'her lover'--Oh! mine!" Emilia lifted her arms. Her voice