r husband with respect. The latter was received with
cordiality--the former politely, but with distance. The young ladies and
Sir Henry bowed distantly, and the gentleman soon drew off into another
part of the room: his absence alone kept Jane from fainting. The handsome
figure of Egerton standing by the side of Mary Jarvis, as her acknowledged
husband, was near proving too much for her pride, notwithstanding all her
efforts; and he looked so like the imaginary being she had set up as the
object of her worship, that her heart was also in danger of rebelling.

"Positively, Sir Edward and my lady, both Sir Timo and myself, and, I
dare say, Sir Harry and Lady Egerton too, are delighted to see you
comfortably at Bath among us. Mrs. Moseley, I wish you much happiness;
Lady Chatterton too. I suppose your ladyship recollects me now; I am Lady
Jarvis. Mr. Moseley, I regret, for your sake, that my son Captain Jarvis
is not here; you were so fond of each other, and both so loved your guns."

"Positively, my Lady Jarvis," said Moseley, drily, "my feelings on the
occasion are as strong as your own; but I presume the captain is much top
good a shot for me by this time."

"Why, yes; he improves greatly in most things he undertakes," rejoined the
smiling dame, "and I hope he will soon learn, like you, to shoot with the
_h_arrows of Cupid. I hope the Honorable Mrs. Moseley is well."

Grace bowed mildly, as she answered to the interrogatory, and smiled at
the thought of Jarvis put in competition with her husband in this species
of archery, when a voice immediately behind where they sat caught the ears
of the whole party; all it said was--

"Harriet, you forgot to show me Marian's letter."

"Yes, but I will to-morrow," was the reply.

It was the tone of Denbigh. Emily almost fell from her seat as it first
reached her, and the eyes of all but herself were immediately turned in
quest of the speaker. He had approached within a very few feet of them,
supporting a lady on each arm. A second look convinced the Moseleys that
they were mistaken. It was not Denbigh, but a young man whose figure,
face, and air resembled him strongly, and whose voice possessed the same
soft melodious tones which had distinguished that of Denbigh. This party
seated themselves within a very short distance of the Moseleys, and they
continued their conversation.

"You heard from the Colonel to-day, too, I believe," continued the
gentleman, turning to the lady wh