ons. She, her mother, and brother, and
sister, all dined at the same table, at a very early hour, with the
merry little guests, who, (with a laughable crowd of attendants behind
them, to be sure) behaved remarkably well on the occasion. Sir Harry (a
little thing about Charles's age--the black ribbon round his waist, and
also the half-mourning dress worn by his maid, who stood behind him,
showed how recent was the event which had made him an orphan) proposed
little Aubrey's health, in (I must own) a somewhat stiff speech,
demurely dictated to him by Kate, who sat between him and her beautiful
little nephew. She then performed the same office for Charles, who stood
on a chair while delivering his eloquent acknowledgment of the toast.

[Oh! that anguished brow of thine, Aubrey, (thank God it is
unobserved!) but it tells _me_ that the iron is entering thy soul!]

And the moment that he had done--Kate folding her arms around him and
kissing him--down they all jumped, and, a merry throng, scampered off to
the drawing-room, (followed by Kate,) where blind-man's buff, husbands
and wives, and divers other little games, kept them in constant
enjoyment. After tea, they were to have dancing--Kate mistress of the
ceremonies--and it was quite laughable to see how perpetually she was
foiled in her efforts to form the little sets. The girls were orderly
enough--but their wild little partners were quite uncontrollable! The
instant they were placed, and Kate had gone to the instrument and struck
off a bar or two--ah!--what a scrambling little crowd was to be seen
wildly jumping and laughing, and chattering and singing! Over and over
again she formed them into sets, with the like results. But at length a
young lady, one of their governesses, took Miss Aubrey's place at the
piano, leaving the latter to superintend the performances in person. She
at length succeeded in getting up something like a country-dance, led
off by Charles and little Lady Anne Cherville, the eldest daughter of
the Earl of Oldacre, a beautiful child of about five years old, and who,
judging from appearances, bade fair in due time to become another Lady
Caroline Caversham. You would have laughed outright to watch the
coquettish airs which this little creature gave herself with Charles,
whom yet she evidently could not bear to see dancing with another.

"Now _I_ shall dance with somebody else!" he exclaimed, suddenly
quitting Lady Anne, and snatching hold of a sweet li