nd his own door to do the honours of Philip's
room, and took a degree of pains for his comfort that seemed too
marvellous to be true in one who had hitherto only lived to be attended
on.

By the time he had settled Philip, the rest of the party had come home,
and he found himself wanted in the dressing-room, to help his mother
to encourage his father to enter on the conversation with Philip in the
evening, for poor Mr. Edmonstone was in such a worry and perplexity,
that the whole space till the dinner-bell rang was insufficient to
console him in. Laura, meanwhile, was with Amabel, who was trying to
cheer her fluttering spirits and nerves, which, after having been so
long harassed, gave way entirely at the moment of meeting Philip again.
How would he regard her after her weakness in betraying him for want
of self-command? Might he not be wishing to be free of one who had so
disappointed him, and only persisting in the engagement from a sense of
honour! The confidence in his affection, which had hitherto sustained
her, was failing; and not all Amabel could say would reassure her. No
one could judge of him but herself, his words were so cautious, and he
had so much command over himself, that nobody could guess. Of course he
felt bound to her; but if she saw one trace of his being only influenced
by honour and pity, she would release him, and he should never see the
struggle.

She had worked herself up into almost a certainty that so it would be,
and Amabel was afraid she would not be fit to go down to dinner; but the
sound of the bell, and the necessity of moving, seemed to restore the
habit of external composure in a moment. She settled her countenance,
and left the room.

Charlotte, meantime, had been dressing alone, and raging against Philip,
declaring she could never bear to speak to him, and that if she was Amy
she would never have chosen him for a godfather. And to think of his
marrying just like a good hero in a book, and living very happy ever
after! To be sure she was sorry for poor Laura; but it was all very
wrong, and now they would be rewarded! How could Charlie be so provoking
as to talk about his sorrow! She hoped he was sorry; and as to his
illness, it served him right.

All this Charlotte communicated to Bustle; but Bustle had heard some
mysterious noise, and insisted on going to investigate the cause; and
Charlotte, finding her own domain dark and cold, and private conferences
going on in Amabel's apa