was near; accustomed to read her thoughts, he advanced to offer his
hand to lead her down stairs--"You are not well, Matilda," said he,
tenderly--"at least not comfortable--I am sure you are not."

Matilda replied only by a smothered sigh.

"They tell me," continued Charles, "that you are about to marry Sir
Theodore Branson?"

"'Tis false," said Matilda, quickly, her bosom evidently palpitating with
shame and anger.

"Then how could you think of waltzing with him? I am sure neither Edmund
nor myself would have dared (brothers as we once deemed ourselves) to have
taken--but--really I beg pardon, Miss Hanson; while I condemn another, I
intrude too far myself."

Matilda was just stepping into the carriage; she turned her eyes on
Charles--they were full of tears, tears such as he had seen in her
repentant eyes in early days; he was affected with them--he felt that the
latter part of his speech had hurt her--that she was not the fashionable
belle, but still the good girl he must love and admire.--"Then," cried he,
eagerly, "you will not marry that sprig of a baronet--eh, Matilda?"

"I will not _indeed_."

"And do you not mean to waltz again?"

"No; I was a fool once, but----"

The carriage drove off, and Charles returned with a light heart to the
ball-room; but that of Edmund was very heavy, and the friends shortly left
the gay scene, and returned to Mr. Harewood's.

CHAPTER XV.

"I will never go any where again without you, indeed, mother, I am
determined," said Matilda, with a sorrowful air, the following morning.

This was the prelude to a confession of error, which in part relieved
the mind of Matilda: but she was still uneasy--she felt as if Charles
would be her apologist with his family, for an error they were likely to
blame in her; but the ardour of his manner made her feel much concerned
for _him_--he was dear to her--she felt for him a sister's affection, but
felt that she could never be more to him than she was then. Anxious and
restless, she earnestly desired to see Ellen, whose gentleness and
dispassionate good sense would soothe the fretfulness and allay the
uneasiness she felt; yet she could not bring herself to call on the
family--she had not the courage to meet Mr. and Mrs. Harewood, nor the
calmness with which she desired to see the brothers. While she was debating
what course to pursue, to her infinite relief she heard that Ellen had just
called with her father, and that both of them