not? Above all, she is by no means partial
to other women, whether they have stepped over the line, or
kept within it. She will hate you, Ellen, depend upon it, with
an innocent kind of hatred: she will do you no harm, for she
is kind-hearted in reality; only it will be nuts to her if
anybody says that Miss Middleton is not near so pretty as they
had expected; and she will try to put you down whenever you
open your mouth; but don't be put down, and then you will
remain mistress of the field, for she will grow so fidgetty,
(not cross, for she is, in fact, good-tempered,) that she will
lose her self-possession, and then all will be over with her."

"I have not the slightest wish to enter the lists with her.
But now, tell me something of the men who are here."

"That will be quickly done;--Sir Charles is a fool; Mr.
Ernsley is a prig; and Mr. Farnley has a broad kind of humour,
and a talent for mimicry, but he is coarse and unrefined,
which, by the way, is, perhaps, the reason that his daughter
thinks it necessary to be so painfully the reverse. Mr.
Brandon, your aunt's brother-in-law, is an agreeable man. Mr.
Manby is a lout."

"And Sir Edmund Ardern?" I inquired.

"Oh, as to Sir Edmund Ardern, I entreat you, on the same
principle on which pastry-cooks cram their apprentices during
the first few days, to talk to him incessantly. Let him sit by
you to-morrow at breakfast, at luncheon, at dinner, walk with
him, and ride with him; I shall not come near you, in order
that he may have full scope for his fascinating powers; you
shall be fascinated till you cry for mercy."

I laughed, but secretly thought that something of the severity
of his satire proceeded from the fact, that Sir Edmund was the
only handsome and pleasing person in the house, and I did not
feel inclined to take entirely for granted, that Henry's
judgment of him was correct.

Our _tete-a-tete_ was soon interrupted by the entrance of Mrs.
Ernsley, and the arrival of tea. Mrs. Ernsley threw herself
into a large arm-chair, flung her bonnet and shawl on the
opposite couch, and then began arranging her hair.

"You look tired, Mrs. Ernsley," said Henry.

"To death," she answered. "Dear Mrs. Brandon has been
wondering whether the stars are inhabited or not. It is not
fair to make one stretch out one's mind so far."

"What did Sir Edmund pronounce on the subject?" inquired
Henry.

"That there was much to be said on both sides of the question.
I left th