ured
me that she had not heard of anybody being in question for
him; but added, that as Mr. Middleton was very anxious that he
should marry, and as, to their great surprise and regret, they
had heard that morning, that I had refused him, and so put an
end to what she knew had been a favourite scheme of my
uncle's, it was not improbable he might have formed some other
project; and then, in a manner as kind as Mr. Middleton's had
been harsh, she blamed and wondered over my apparent
inconsistency and caprice. She did not, however, allude to
Henry, or repulse my lame attempts at self-defence, with
anything but a deep sigh and a melancholy shake of the head.

There was to be a ball the next night at a Mrs. Miltown's, a
sister-in-law of Mrs. Brandon, And among my good resolutions
bad been that of excusing myself, on some pretext or other,
from going to it, for I did not know how to comply with Mr.
Middleton's orders with respect to Henry, without irritating
the latter in a way which I dreaded to encounter. What made me
most uneasy was, that quite contrary to his usual habits, my
uncle had announced his intention of going with us to this
ball, and I could not help thinking that it was for the
express purpose of watching me, and under his severe and
observant eye, it would be next to impossible to convey to
Henry the explanation which would account for my change of
manner to him; but now that my whole soul was bent on finding
out who the person was to whom my uncle hoped that Edward
would devote himself, every other consideration gave way
before that overwhelming interest. I could not have imagined
beforehand to what a degree it would have harassed me. I felt
as if the time that was to intervene between that evening and
the next would be interminable; the images of Henry, of Alice,
of Mrs. Tracy, faded away before the phantom which my
imagination had conjured up, and it was with feverish
impatience that I awaited the approach of that hour which I
thought would confirm or dispel my fears. It came at last, as
all hours do, whether they have been longed for with all the
intensity of ardent expectation, or dreaded with all the
anguish of terrified apprehension.

When I came down to the drawing-room, dressed for the ball,
Mrs. Middleton exclaimed, "You look unlike yourself to-night,
Ellen I Have you done your hair differently from usual? No"
(she continued, as she passed her hand gently over my
forehead)--"no, it is not that;