wo things at once, listen to her, and hear your voice.
You are the enchantress, depend upon it."

A glow of triumph burned on the heart of Caroline at these words. For
though rather prejudiced against St. Eval by the arts of Annie, still,
to make an impression on one whom she had heard was invulnerable to all,
to make the calm, and some said, severely stoical, St. Eval bend beneath
her power, was a triumph she determined to achieve. That spirit of
coquetry so fatal to her aunt, the ill-fated Eleanor, was as innate in
the bosom of Caroline; no opportunity had yet offered to give it play,
still the seeds were there, and she could not resist the temptation now
presented. Even in her childhood Mrs. Hamilton had marked this fatal
propensity. Every effort had been put in force to check it, every gentle
counsel given, but arrested in its growth though it was, erased entirely
it could not be. The principles of virtue had been too carefully
instilled, for coquetry to attain the same ascendancy and indulgence
with Caroline as it had with her aunt, yet she felt she could no longer
control the inclination which the present opportunity afforded her to
use her power.

"Do you go to the Marchioness of Malvern's fete, next week?" demanded
Lord Henry. Caroline answered in the affirmative.

"I am glad of it. The Walking Cyclopaedia may make himself as agreeable
there as he has so marvellously done to-night. You will be in fairy
land. He has brought flowers from every country, and reared them for his
mother, till they have become the admiration of all for miles around. I
told him he looked like a market gardener, collecting flowers from every
place he went to. I dragged him away several times, and told him he
would certainly be taken for a country booby, and scolded him for
demeaning his rank with such ignoble pleasures, and what wise answer do
you think he made me?"

"A very excellent one, I have no doubt."

"Or it would not come from such a learned personage, Miss Hamilton.
Really it was so philosophic, I was obliged to learn it as a lesson to
retain it. That he, superior as he deemed himself, and that wild flower
which he tended with so much care, were alike the work of Infinite
Wisdom, and as such, the study of the one could not demean the other. I
stared at him, and for the space of a week dubbed him the Preaching
Pilgrim; but I was soon tired of that, and resumed his former one, which
comprises all. I wonder at what letter the