have always forgotten to ask, and it has not been occupied since I was here. I am tired of seeing those eternal shutters."

"My dear Clara," said the Countess, as she raised her eyes at the question, “do come away from that open window. You will be talked of as much as the Ladies who sit in their greenhouse facing the park, in attitudes. Whose house is that? Why Sir James Eastham's-and-the idea never came into my head before-I have no doubt may be yours. Here, come and sit down, and I will give you a full, true, and particular account of your sposo elect. I wonder I never thought of this before; it is well I have no daughters, for it is evident Nature never intended me for a manœuvrer.'

it

To begin, then, at the best end of my story. Sir James Eastham's place is in the neighbourhood of St. Clair Park, not more than six miles distant. It is not one of those 'make pretend,' as children say, Elizabethan houses, which it is so much the

fashion to build now, but one of the finest specimens in England of that beautiful old style when really genuine. There is altogether something quite princely about it, with its avenues of stately trees, and deer feeding quite up to the front of the house. In the back is a sloping terraced flowergarden, which might be made perfection if a little pains were taken with it. But flowers are not in Sir James's way, though he keeps up the whole place, of which he may well be proud, in excellent order. His fortune is one of the largest in the county, and all the mothers and daughters, too, have been trying for him this many a year, but in vain. He is now between forty and fifty, and a bachelor still, and, depend upon it, the prize is reserved for you, Clara."

"Of his personal appearance, I cannot say very much; he certainly is not handsome, and his manners are not those of London life-nevertheless, there is a certain something which tells us he is by birth at least a

gentleman; and, I have no doubt an elegant wife would improve him immensely. Hitherto, he has never sought ladies' society,-he is a great hunter, a great racer, in short, a thorough-going sportsman, with his heart and soul in his dog kennels and his stables; but n'importe, he may make a very kind husband, and, if I mistake not, you had rather be without a very sentimental one-so my Lady Eastham elect, I wish you joy of becoming mistress of that fine house opposite, and also of Eastham Court, to say nothing of twenty or thirty thousand a year. You will, of course, then come regularly to town, and we will be rival queens. Well, that is settled. Now ring the bell, s'il vous plait, I really think Kensington Gardens will be cooler than this hot room-we will order the carriage; and, I have just thought, this would be just the night for Vauxhall, and we have no engagement; we shall find plenty ready to join our party, I dare say, so we will go and see. That stiff Lord Stoneley won't let his daugh

ters go without him, so we must take the evil with the good. By the bye, I am glad to see you and they have become such great friends, they are unexceptionable in that way; and you will find them delightful companions in the country, for they have always some delightful resource, and drive away ennui, even on a wet day. I expect to amuse you with some of our country neighbours when we get to St. Clair Park. I have some curious specimens in what I call my menagerie; but on the whole, you know, the society is excellent, and you will meet much the same set that you are with here, though they do not all come to town. Then I keep the house pretty well filled with a succession of visitors from a distance, so what with these, and those in our own. county, I assure you we get on very gaily, and you will not find much of rustication in an English country-house, as it is now ordered. It combines the society of London with the freedom of the country. In

short, I believe I like the life there quite as well as this, and I have the advantage of my beautiful flower-garden. You know my passion for flowers; I will show you them at St. Clair Park in full perfection."

"Mais allons, let us prepare for our drive, it is too warm for riding, or that best shakes off the idleness consequent on a late ball— but a walk in Kensington Gardens will be a good substitute."