h eloquence; and therefore she was always shamming
love and friendship and benevolence and tenderness. She could tell
you, with words most appropriate to the subject, how horrible were
all shams, and in saying so would be not altogether insincere;--yet
she knew that she herself was ever shamming, and she satisfied
herself with shams. "What is he going to say to me?" she asked
Augusta, with her hands clasped, when she went up to put her bonnet
on after breakfast.

"To fix the day, I suppose," said Augusta.

"If I thought so, I would endeavour to please him. But it isn't that.
I know his manner so well! I am sure it is not that. Perhaps it is
something about my boy. He will not wish to separate a mother from
her child."

"Oh dear, no," said Augusta. "I am sure Frederic will not want to do
that."

"In anything else I will obey him," said Lizzie, again clasping her
hands. "But I must not keep him waiting,--must I? I fear my future
lord is somewhat impatient." Now, if among Lord Fawn's merits one
merit was more conspicuous than another, it was that of patience.
When Lizzie descended he was waiting for her in the hall without a
thought that he was being kept too long. "Now, Frederic! I should
have been with you two whole minutes since, if I had not had just a
word to say to Augusta. I do so love Augusta."

"She is a very good girl," said Lord Fawn.

"So true and genuine,--and so full of spirit. I will come on the
other side because of my parasol and the sun. There, that will do. We
have an hour nearly before going to church;--haven't we? I suppose
you will go to church."

"I intend it," said Lord Fawn.

"It is so nice to go to church," said Lizzie. Since her widowhood had
commenced, she had compromised matters with the world. One Sunday
she would go to church, and the next she would have a headache and
a French novel and stay in bed. But she was prepared for stricter
conduct during at least the first months of her newly-married life.

"My dear Lizzie," began Lord Fawn, "since I last saw you I have been
twice with Mr. Camperdown."

"You are not going to talk about Mr. Camperdown to-day?"

"Well;--yes. I could not do so last night, and I shall be back in
London either to-night or before you are up to-morrow morning."

"I hate the very name of Mr. Camperdown," said Lizzie.

"I am sorry for that, because I am sure you could not find an
honester lawyer to manage your affairs for you. He does everything
for me, an