ng man was drawing the reins even, she caught
a glance from his eye such as a man casts aimlessly at the crowd; and
then she enjoyed the feeble satisfaction of seeing him turn his head to
look at her. The young lady did the same. Was it from jealousy?

"I imagine you have now seen enough of the garden," said her brother.
"We may go back to the dancing."

"I am ready," said she. "Do you think the girl can be a relation of Lady
Dudley's?"

"Lady Dudley may have some male relation staying with her," said the
Baron de Fontaine; "but a young girl!--No!"

Next day Mademoiselle de Fontaine expressed a wish to take a ride. Then
she gradually accustomed her old uncle and her brothers to escorting her
in very early rides, excellent, she declared for her health. She had a
particular fancy for the environs of the hamlet where Lady Dudley was
living. Notwithstanding her cavalry manoeuvres, she did not meet the
stranger so soon as the eager search she pursued might have allowed her
to hope. She went several times to the "Bal de Sceaux" without seeing
the young Englishman who had dropped from the skies to pervade and
beautify her dreams. Though nothing spurs on a young girl's infant
passion so effectually as an obstacle, there was a time when
Mademoiselle de Fontaine was on the point of giving up her strange and
secret search, almost despairing of the success of an enterprise whose
singularity may give some idea of the boldness of her temper. In point
of fact, she might have wandered long about the village of Chatenay
without meeting her Unknown. The fair Clara--since that was the name
Emilie had overheard--was not English, and the stranger who escorted her
did not dwell among the flowery and fragrant bowers of Chatenay.

One evening Emilie, out riding with her uncle, who, during the fine
weather, had gained a fairly long truce from the gout, met Lady Dudley.
The distinguished foreigner had with her in her open carriage Monsieur
Vandenesse. Emilie recognized the handsome couple, and her suppositions
were at once dissipated like a dream. Annoyed, as any woman must be
whose expectations are frustrated, she touched up her horse so suddenly
that her uncle had the greatest difficulty in following her, she had set
off at such a pace.

"I am too old, it would seem, to understand these youthful spirits,"
said the old sailor to himself as he put his horse to a canter; "or
perhaps young people are not what they used to be. But what ails m