the realm. A single successful speech in the
House of Commons, opens before its utterer the shining doors of fashion
and greatness as if by magic. It is as it were POWER stepping into its
palace, welcomed by gay crowds of eager, obsequious expectants. Who
would not press forward to grasp in anxious welcome the hand which, in a
few short years, may dispense the glittering baubles sighed after by the
great, and the more substantial patronage of office--which may point
public opinion in any direction? But, to go no farther, what if to all
this be added a previous position in society, such as that occupied by
Mr. Aubrey! There were several very fine women, married and single, in
that splendid drawing-room; but there were two girls, in very different
styles of beauty, who were soon allowed by all present to carry off the
palm between them--I mean Miss Aubrey and Lady Caroline Caversham, the
only daughter of the Marchioness of Redborough, both of whom were on a
visit at the castle of some duration. Lady Caroline and Miss Aubrey were
of about the same age, and dressed almost exactly alike, viz. in white
satin; only Lady Caroline wore a brilliant diamond necklace, whereas
Kate had chosen to wear not a single ornament.

Lady Caroline was a trifle the taller, and had a very stately carriage.
Her hair was black as jet--her features were refined and delicate; but
they wore a very cold, haughty expression. After a glance at her
half-closed eyes, and the swan-like curve of her snowy neck, you
unconsciously withdrew from her, as from an inaccessible beauty. The
more you looked at her, the more she satisfied your critical scrutiny;
but your _feelings_ went not out towards her--they were, in a manner,
chilled and repulsed. Look, now, at our own Kate Aubrey--nay, never
fear to place her beside yon supercilious divinity--look at her, and
your _heart_ acknowledges her loveliness; your soul thrills at sight of
her bewitching blue eyes--eyes now sparkling with excitement, then
languishing with softness, in accordance with the varying emotions of a
sensitive nature--a most susceptible heart. How her sunny curls
harmonize with the delicacy and richness of her complexion! Her figure,
observe, is, of the two, a trifle fuller than her rival's--stay, don't
let your admiring eyes settle so intently upon her budding form, or you
will confuse Kate--turn away, or she will shrink from you like the
sensitive plant! Lady Caroline seems the exquisite but