been proud and unconciliatory, though I doubt whether it made much
difference. Then her spirit was altogether crushed by the loss of
Archie, she never had another day's health. Eugene came to her like
Ichabod to Phinehas' wife, and she was soon gone from us," said Betty,
wiping away a tear.

"Leaving us a dear sister to be a mother to us," said Aurelia, raising
her sweet face for a kiss.

Harriet pondered a little, and said, "My Lady is not at enmity with us,
since my father keeps the house and agency."

"We should be reduced to poverty indeed without them," said Betty; "and
Sir Jovian, an upright honourable man, the only person whom my Lady
truly respected, insisted on his continuance. As long as my Lady regards
his memory we are safe, but no one can trust to her caprice."

"She never comes here, nor disturbs my father."

"No, but she makes heavy calls on the estate, and is displeased if he
refuses to overpress the tenants or hesitates to cut the timber."

"I have heard say," added Harriet, "that her debts in town and her
losses at play drove her to accept her present husband, Mr. Wayland, a
hideous old fellow, who had become vastly rich through some discovery
about cannon."

"He is an honourable and upright man," said Betty. "I should have
fewer anxieties if he had not been sent out to Gibraltar and Minorca to
superintend the fortifications."

"Meantime my Lady makes the money fly, by the help of the gallant
Colonel Mar," said Harriet lightly.

"Fie! Harriet!" returned the elder sister; "I have allowed you too far.
My father calls Lady Belamour his commanding officer, and permits no
scandal to be spoken of her."

"Any more than of Prince Eugene?" said Harriet, laughing.

"But oh! sister!" cried Aurelia, "let us stay a little longer. I have
not half braided my hair, and I long to hear who is the gentleman of
whom my father spoke as living in the dark."

"Mr. Amyas Belamour! Sir Jovian's brother! Ah! that is a sad story,"
replied Betty, "though I am not certain that I have it correctly,
having only heard it discussed between my father and mother when I was a
growing girl, sitting at my sampler. I think he was a barrister; I know
he was a very fine gentleman and a man of parts, who had made the Grand
Tour; for when he was staying at the Great House, he said my mother was
the only person he met who could converse with him on the Old Masters,
or any other subject of _virtu_, and that, being reported to my L