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 life, and more especially valued, when it is found in those who are beyond us and before us in the race of life. Her gentle and caressing manner had a peculiar charm for Eliza, who lived in rather a hard atmosphere at home. She was firmly convinced that Lady Eskdale's opinion was infallible; that she was more beautiful in her middle age than the rest of the world in their prime; that her gown was better made, and her cap more becoming, than other women's caps and gowns; and that the very happy individual whom Ernest might select as his wife ought to count the blessing of becoming Lady Eskdale's niece one of the brightest ingredients in her lot. Young people may be foolish, perhaps are so generally, but there is something very attractive in the warmth of their grateful little hearts.

"I am very glad you like her, dear," said Ernest (all Lady Eskdale's entourage called her "dear"); "she seems to me as good a little creature as ever breathed; pretty and lady-like, and so serviceable; never minds what trouble she takes for other people. I think she will suit me exactly; we shall be very happy together."

Lady Eskdale laughed: "My dear Ernest, you amuse me with your cool way of taking that for granted. Eliza is all and much more than you say, for she has great intelligence and tact."

"Oh yes, of course, I forgot to mention that."

"And strong principles, which would lead her to be a good wife even to a bad husband; but she would be a very unhappy wife with a husband who did not care for her. Ernest, I never expect to see you very much in love, though I believe you affect to be colder than you really are, but are you quite sure you really care enough for my dear little Liz?"

"Quite sure," he said, speaking with more energy and warmth than was his custom. "As you say, I am not the sort of fellow who takes a romantic view of things, but the