cousin were sitting one afternoon, and speaking with some of
her former cheerfulness. "There is a carriage coming down the avenue,
and though I cannot quite distinguish it, I have second sight sufficient
to fancy it is papa's. Edward declared he would not tell us when he was
coming home, and therefore there is nothing at all improbable in the
idea, that he will fire a broadside on us, as he calls it,
unexpectedly."
"I would willingly stand fire, to see him safe anchored off this
coast," replied Ellen, smiling. "Lord N----'s ball will lose half its
charms if he be not there."
"What! with all your enthusiastic admiration of her Royal Highness, whom
you will have the honour of seeing? For shame, Ellen."
"My enthusiastic admiration; rather yours, my dear Emmeline. Mine is so
quiet that it does not deserve the name of enthusiasm," replied Ellen,
laughing. "Nor could I have imagined you would have honoured me so far
as to give me an attribute in your eyes so precious."
"I am getting old and learning wisdom," answered Emmeline, making an
effort to continue her playfulness, "and therefore admire quietness more
than formerly."
"And therefore you are sometimes so silent and sad, to atone for the
past, my Emmeline," remarked her mother, somewhat sorrowfully.
"Sad, nay, dearest mother, do me not injustice; I cannot be sad, when so
many, many blessings are around me," replied the affectionate girl.
"Silent I may be sometimes, but that is only because I do not feel quite
so strong perhaps as I once did, and it appears an exertion to rattle on
as I used upon trifling subjects."
"I shall not be contented, then, my own Emmeline, till that strength
returns, and I hear you delighted, even as of old, with little things
again."
"And yet you have sometimes smiled at my romance, and bade me think of
self-control, dearest mother. Must I be saucy enough to call you
changeable?" answered Emmeline, smiling, as she looked in her mother's
face.
Mrs. Hamilton was prevented replying by Ellen's delighted exclamation
that it was her uncle's carriage, and Edward was waving a white
handkerchief, as if impatient to reach them, an impatience which was
speedily satisfied by his arrival, bounding into the room, but suddenly
pausing at the door to permit his uncle and another gentleman's
entrance, to which latter he respectfully raised his cap, and then
sprung forward to clasp the extended hands of his cousin and sister.
"Allow me to co
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