,--

'Mamma! dear mamma! don't say such horrid things! No one is half so wise
or so good,--I am sure Guy thinks so too!'

At the same time Bustle, perceiving a commotion, made a leap, planted
his fore-feet on Mrs. Edmonstone's lap, wagging his tail vehemently, and
trying to lick her face. It was not in human nature not to laugh; and
Mrs. Edmonstone did so as heartily as either of the young ones; indeed,
Charlotte was the first to resume her gravity, not being sure of her
ground, and being hurt at her impulse of affection being thus reduced to
the absurd. She began to apologize,--

'Dear mamma, I could not help it. I thought you knew I wad in the room.'

'My dear child,' and her mother kissed her warmly, 'I don't want to hide
anything from you. You are my only home-daughter now.' Then recollecting
her prudence, she proceeded,--'You are old enough to understand the
distress this insincerity of poor Laura's has occasioned,--and now that
Amy is gone, we must look to you to comfort us.'

Did ever maiden of fourteen feel more honoured, and obliged to be very
good and wise than Charlotte, as she knelt by her mother's side? Happily
tact was coming with advancing years, and she did not attempt to mingle
in the conversation, which was resumed by Charles observing that the
strangest part of the affair was the incompatibility of so novelish and
imprudent a proceeding with the cautious, thoughtful character of
both parties. It was, he said, analogous to a pentagon flirting with a
hexagon; whereas Guy, a knight of the Round Table, in name and nature,
and Amy, with her little superstitions, had been attached in the most
matter-of-fact, hum-drum way, and were in a course of living very
happy ever after, for which nature could never have designed them. Mrs.
Edmonstone smiled, sighed, hoped they were prudent, and wondered whether
camphor and chloride of lime were attainable at Recoara.

Laura came down no more that day, for she was worn out with agitation,
and it was a relief to be sufficiently unwell to be excused facing her
father and Charles. She had little hope that Charlotte had not heard
all; but she might seem to believe her ignorant, and could, therefore,
endure her waiting on her, with an elaborate kindness and compassion,
and tip-toe silence, far beyond the deserts of her slight indisposition.

In the evening, Charles and his mother broke the tidings to Mr.
Edmonstone as gently as they could, Charles feeling bound to be t