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" a talk with you, my dearly beloved aunt," said Ernest one morning, presenting himself at the door of Lady Eskdale's boudoir; "I want your advice."

"What is the matter, my dear? come in. Are you bilious, Ernest? I hope you have not got a touch of poor Teviot's fever."

"Oh no, it is nothing of that sort, but I am on the point of taking a desperate resolution, and I think your dear good soft mind is just the thing for my strong one to lean upon. You see, I make a joke of it to Amelia and Helen, they are so young and energetic. I never was either, but I am seriously thinking of marrying, and of asking Eliza Douglas if she will have me."

"My dear boy," said Lady Eskdale, who could not picture to herself life without husband and children, and had never brought herself to believe in the existence of an unhappy marriage, "how delighted I am! I am excessively fond of that girl, She is what very few people are, perfectly artless, and so thoroughly affectionate."

Lady Eskdale might well make that assertion, for Eliza felt for her that ardent love which girls in early youth often lavish on a woman far above them in age, position, and experience, whose kindness to themselves seems to be a distinction which raises them in their own estimation, and often influences the whole tenor of their after-lives. Lady Eskdale's loving nature gave her this power over many of the young people by whom she was surrounded. They felt sure of her sympathy, that great tie in all the friendships of