how impenetrable he is when his plans are thwarted. I believe the idea of my selecting Margaret as a wife has never entered his mind. I feel next to positive that he will be furious, and command me, on pain of incurring his everlasting displeasure, to choose a more wealthy and more highly-descended bride."

Grace sighed. The probability of these objections was not to be refuted; she could advance nothing to gainsay Ernest's apprehensions. At length she remarked, "Margaret is well-born, Ernest."

"Yes! as you and I, and as all right-minded people understand the phrase. Margaret is the child of a scholar and a gentleman; and like the holy, loving Cowper, she may, and perhaps does say in her heart

'My boast is not that I derive my birth

From kings enthroned, and rulers of the earth;
But higher far my proud pretensions rise,
The child of parents passed into the skies.'

But all this, Grace, as you well know, will go a very little way with my father. I believe he has some darling scheme of his own for the aggrandisement of his family, and doubtless the role of the drama has long been arranged. Last night he was talking to me in a very pleasant, conciliatory style, so unlike his usual manner, that I was impelled to caution, lest some hidden design might lurk under words so unaccountably smooth. His subject was Eleanor Finch!"

"Indeed! I wonder if he wished you to make any advances in that quarter. I hope not, because if your engagement to Margaret should supersede one which

84

FINANCIAL PRUDENCE.

he had previously arranged in his own mind, your difficulties will be trebled and quadrupled. I wonder, Ernest, how far you would be justified in acting without his authority. You are of age. Margaret is not penniless. She and Hester had a hundred a year each; but when Hester married, Sir Herbert generously insisted on the whole being given up to Margaret. Then you have more than a hundred a year of your very own, which dear mamma's Portuguese god-mother bequeathed to you. As far as pecuniary matters are concerned, you could marry, Ernest."

"My good little sister, your financial prudence does you infinite credit. Yes! as far as ways and means go, I think I could; for we should be quite content without grandeur; and I have no idea of being an idle gentleman. It would be very advisable to have between three and four hundred a year to fall back upon in case of necessity; but I trust I could realise a much larger income by my own exertions if need were. Still I must win my father's approbation." "When is the affair of the partnership to be fully arranged ?" inquired Grace.

'I cannot say; my father spoke of it last night as business that must be speedily completed. At present he gives me a clerk's salary, and no more."

66

Well, you will speak to Margaret ? I think you do her wrong by remaining silent. If-mind, I only say if she loves you, you are giving her a great deal of pain, you are trying her fortitude in a very unnecessary way."

"You are right; but, Grace, I have only been withheld by my own scruples, whether I ought first to speak to her or to my father."

Oh! first to Margaret, decidedly; and then lose no time in disclosing the affair to papa. Ernest, I will hold by you through fire and water."

"I know it, dear, good Grace! Ah, I fear I shall need some stanch allies in the camp. There is the dinner-bell; run, Grace, you must not forget that you are lady of the house."

86

INCIPIENT MISCHIEF.

CHAPTER VIII.

"When from their frozen urns, mute springs
Pour out the river's gradual tide,

Shrilly the skater's iron rings

And voices fill the woodland side."

LONGFELLOW.

Mr.

THAT evening was rather a stormy one. Hamilton inquired during dinner how the charades progressed, and whether he was to be entertained with them that evening or the next. No one making any reply, Miss Wedderburn, after a short interval of silence, informed him that for the present she believed the design was abandoned. "And wherefore ?" was his next inquiry," could you not manage it ?"

Dora looked at Grace with the air of a mischievous child. "Ah," she said, shaking her long, bright curls in a style peculiar to herself; "thereunto belongs a history; you must ask Miss Hamilton to explain.'

Miss Hamilton, however, as might be expected, manifested no eagerness to give the required explanations; she felt extremely confused, and in utter despair of making anything like a comprehensible reply. How unkind of Dora to place her in so embarrassing a position!

"Well, Miss Hamilton, I wait your pleasure,"

66 QUITE UNNECESSARY."

87

was her father's next speech, not uttered in a particularly encouraging tone; though it must be understood, Mr. Hamilton always addressed his daughter when seated at the head of his table with the ceremonious style and prefix which would have been demanded from a stranger.

Eleanor came to the rescue; she felt excessively angry with her cousin, and read in a clearer light than poor discomforted Grace, her motives for this very unnecessary interference.

When Dora did not like any speech or notion, addressed to, or affecting herself, she always remarked in an extremely emphatic tone, "that it's quite unnecessary!" Eleanor longed to tell her there and then that the pointed and spiteful reference to Miss Hamilton, which she made with all the apparent candour of a gleesome child, was "quite unnecessary!"

"I will tell you about it, Mr. Hamilton," interposed Eleanor. Mr. Hamilton politely inclined himself to listen. "We were debating, and discussing, and differing, and disputing, till the morning was almost spent, and then somehow there was a proposal to give up the charades altogether. I think it was Dora who said the plan had better be relinquished; and Grace with her usual politeness allowed the negative to pass."

"I appeal, I appeal," cried Dora, fastening her lovely eyes on Mr. Hamilton's stern countenance. "I only proposed a regular play as a substitute for the charades, which I saw would neither be one thing nor another, and Miss Hamilton took the alarm immediately. Miss Whittaker and Miss Grahame agreed