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 ear. No woman, be she ever so hardened or hackneyed in the ways of the world, can ever achieve an indifferent pronunciation, if the term may be allowed, of the name of the individual most interesting to her. There is no disguise she does not attempt; she drawls it out slowly, it will not be slighted. She runs it over quickly, it will not be slurred. She inserts it between two other commonplace names, it is still the guinea between the two halfpence. Still it is spoken in the tone of voice that belongs only to him.

"I have not seen Colonel Beaufort since he was quite a boy," said Mrs. Douglas. "I suppose he is like all the rest of the family, thoroughly grand and fine. I think you wrote word he was very conceited."

"No, mamma, affected. I thought him so at first; and perhaps he is a little affected. I do not think you will like him, mamma."

"I dare say not, my dear. I very seldom do like anybody; but probably he is not worse than Lord Teviot, nor so bad as Lord Beaufort. I have an idea that I shall prefer him to them."

Eliza was quite enchanted with such positive praise of her hero, but she defended Lord Beaufort valiantly; declared that he was the most good-natured man in the world, and not the least grand or fine.

"In short, the best of the two cousins?" asked Mrs. Douglas; "but now, my dear, we must dress, and when I have seen all your fine friends, I shall know better what to think of them. Ring for Hunt. How I hate these large rooms, where the bells are always a mile off!"

Mrs. Douglas found considerable food for observation in the party assembled at St. Mary's, and after the lapse of two or three days she had drawn from the events that were passing before her eyes the cheering conclusions,—that the Teviot ménage was not happy; that Lady Portmore, a beauty and a fine lady, was perfectly insupportable, and