ghter, ma'am? How
do you do, Miss Mainwaring?"

"My dear Mr. Roberts," said Mainwaring, "we are not so happy as to claim
this young lady as a daughter. She is Miss Gourlay, daughter to Sir
Thomas Gourlay, of Red Hall, now here upon a visit for the good of her
health."

"How do you do, Miss Gourlay? I am happy to say that I have seen a young
lady that I have heard so much of--so much, I ought to say, that was
good of."

Lucy, as she replied, blushed deeply at this unintentional mention of
her name, and Mrs. Mainwaring, signing to her husband, by putting her
finger on her lips, hinted to him that he had done wrong.

Old Sam, however, on receiving this intelligence, looked occasionally,
with a great deal of interest, from Lucy to the young officer, and again
from the young officer to Lucy; and as he did it, he uttered a series of
ejaculations to himself, which were for the most part inaudible to
the rest. "Ha!--dear me!--God bless me!--very strange!--right, old
Corbet--right for a thousand--nature will prove it--not a doubt
of it--God bless me!--how very like they are!--perfect brother and
sister!--bless me--it's extraordinary--not a doubt of it. Bravo, Ned!"

"Come, ladies," said Mr. Mainwaring; "come, my friend, old Sam, as you
like to be called, and you, Edward, come one, come all, till we try the
cold ham and chicken. Miss Gou--ehem--come, Lucy, my dear, the short
cut through the window; you see it open, and now, Martha, your hand; but
there is old Sam's. Well done, Sam; your soldier's ever gallant. Help
Miss--help the young lady up the steps, Edward. Good! he has anticipated
me."

In a few minutes they were enjoying their lunch, during which the
conversation became very agreeable, and even animated. Young Roberts had
nothing of the military puppy about him whatsoever. On the contrary, his
deportment was modest, manly, and unassuming. Sensible of his father's
humble, but yet respectable position, he neither attempted to swagger
himself into importance by an affectation of superior breeding or
contempt for his parent, nor did he manifest any of that sullen
taciturnity which is frequently preserved, as a proof of superiority,
or a mask for conscious ignorance and bad breeding; the fact being
generally forgotten that it is an exponent of both.

"So, Edward, you like the army, then?" inquired Mr. Mainwaring.

"I do, sir," replied young Roberts; "it's a noble profession."

"Eight, Ned--a noble profession--that's