ch half-comic
half-serious skirmish, as her ladyship and Mr. Mowbray had often amused
the company withal. But revenge which is suppressed and deferred, is
always most to be dreaded; and to the effects of the deliberate
resentment which Lady Penelope cherished upon this trifling occasion,
must be traced the events which our history has to record. Secretly did
she determine to return the shawl, which she had entertained hopes of
making her own upon very reasonable terms; and as secretly did she
resolve to be revenged both upon brother and sister, conceiving herself
already possessed, to a certain degree, of a clew to some part of their
family history, which might serve for a foundation on which to raise her
projected battery. The ancient offences and emulation of importance of
the Laird of St. Ronan's, and the superiority which had been given to
Clara in the exhibition of the day, combined with the immediate cause of
resentment; and it only remained for her to consider how her revenge
should be most signally accomplished.

Whilst such thoughts were passing through Lady Penelope's mind, Mowbray
was searching with his eyes for the Earl of Etherington, judging that it
might be proper, in the course of the entertainment, or before the
guests had separated, to make him formally acquainted with his sister,
as a preface to the more intimate connexion which must, in prosecution
of the plan agreed upon, take place betwixt them. Greatly to his
surprise, the young Earl was no where visible, and the place which he
had occupied by the side of Lady Binks had been quietly appropriated by
Winterblossom, as the best and softest chair in the room, and nearest to
the head of the table, where the choicest of the entertainment is
usually arranged. This honest gentleman, after a few insipid compliments
to her ladyship upon her performance as Queen of the Amazons, had
betaken himself to the much more interesting occupation of ogling the
dishes, through the glass which hung suspended at his neck by a gold
chain of Maltese workmanship. After looking and wondering for a few
seconds, Mowbray addressed himself to the old beau-garcon, and asked him
what had become of Etherington.

"Retreated," said Winterblossom, "and left but his compliments to you
behind him--a complaint, I think, in his wounded arm.--Upon my word,
that soup has a most appetizing flavour!--Lady Penelope, shall I have
the honour to help you?--no!--nor you, Lady Binks?--you are too