e to ponder over her remarks, or to meditate a
fitting answer, wrote on a slip of paper under the table:--

"Mine! my angel! You will see me to-morrow.

"YOUR LOVER."

This, being inserted in an envelope, with zig-zag letters of address
to form Emilia's name, he contrived to pass to Braintop's hands, and
resumed his conversation with Lady Charlotte, who said, when there was
nothing left to discover, "But what is it you concoct down there?" "I!"
cried Wilfrid, lifting his hands, and so betraying himself after the
fashion of the very innocent. She despised any reading of acts not on
the surface, and nodded to the explanation he gave--to wit: "By the way,
do you mean--have you noticed my habit of touching my fingers' ends as I
talk? I count them backwards and forwards."

"Shows nervousness," said Lady Charlotte; "you are a boy!"

"Exceedingly a boy."

"Now I put a finger on his vanity," said she; and thought indeed that
she had played on him.

"Mr. Pole," (Lady Gosstre addressed that gentleman,) "I must hope
that you will leave this dining-hall as it is; there is nothing in the
neighbourhood to match it!"

"Delightful!" interposed Laura Tinley; "but is it settled?"

Mr. Pole leaned forward to her ladyship; and suddenly catching the
sense of her words, "Ah, why not?" he said, and reached his hand to
some champagne, which he raised to his mouth, but drank nothing of.
Reflection appeared to tell him that his safety lay in drinking, and he
drained the glass at a gulp. Mrs. Chump had it filled immediately, and
explained to a wondering neighbour, "It's that that keeps 'm on his
legs."

"We shall envy you immensely," said Laura Tinley to Arabella; who
replied, "I assure you that no decision has been come to."

"Ah, you want to surprise us with cards on a sudden from Besworth!"

"That is not the surprise I have in store," returned Arabella sedately.

"Then you have a surprise? Do tell me."

"How true to her sex is the lady who seeks to turn 'what it is' into
'what it isn't!'" said Freshfield, trusty lieutenant.

"I think a little peeping makes surprises sweeter; I'm weak enough to
think that," Lady Charlotte threw in.

"That is so true!" exclaimed Laura.

"Well; and a secret shared is a fact uncommonly well aired--that is
also true. But, remember, you do not desire the surprise; you are a
destroying force to it;" and Freshfield bowed.

"Curiosity!" sighed some one, relieving Freshfiel