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now he looked noble, aristocratic, eloquent; he was a picture of health, enthusiasm, and youth. There at Anna's side was the grave baron, ever treating her as a child, because he could not speak as woman loves to be spoken to ; he could not bow man’s intellect to hers, unless he bowed too much; he wearied his bride by peevishly asking for more show of affection than she could without deceit give him, and none could watch them without saying “ What an ill-matched pair.”

In that moment, when Anna encountered Cunnington's gaze, her heart beat convul. sively, she felt all that fate had taken from her; she repined more in that one moment than she had done for a year; and she turned away her face to hide a starting tear.

Alice had followed Cunnington's anxious gaze, and she had no difficulty in recognizing the beautiful reality of the being whose ideal had been her admiration, though her misery; she saw the starting tear, and in

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voluntarily her own beautiful hazel eyes sought those darker ones, whilst Anna was so struck with their despairing expression, that she was drawn towards that fair creature, as if to claim a sister in affliction.

Alice was still in mourning for Lord Cunnington; her dress of white lisse muslin was simply ornamented with white roses, whilst her hair fell in rich brown ringlets, partly confined by being slightly twisted round a diamond-crested comb.

There was a great difference between the rivals : Anna's was an Asiatic, lofty style of beauty, almost too conscious of its existence, yet proudly reserved in the cold smiles which she threw around her, like the expected largesse of a conqueror ; and her form, too, had that proud bearing which chilled some, whilst those who dared cast on it bold glances, even when repulsed by that scornful smile, found a Venus's grace to reward the boldness of the gaze. Alice, on the contrary, was a creature to inspire affection, deep affection, lasting admiration, but not fevered love ;—too deep a gaze was not checked by a smile of defiance, but it brought such vivid blushes to the fair young brow, that the rude stare of the man of fashion changed into admiration for the modest girl. There was something chaste and graceful in Alice's figure, even her taste in dress harmonized with her person, rather than set it off. Some persons prefer a pale lily to a full-blooming rose ; such persons would have preferred Alice to the baroness.

Anna had the grace of a pliable figure and well-taught deportment; Alice, the grace of mind which springs from the gift, or misfortune, as some persons call it, of associating trivial circumstances with such poetic grace, that thought, becoming poetry itself, stamps its delicate colouring upon every movement of the body, and every expression of the face.

Such were the rivals; both stars fit to shine brightly, but both destined to suffer from each other's brightness. Alice crimsoned under Anna's searching gaze, and the latter, who at first had so much admired her rival, from the moment her heart whispered that such she was, soon turned away with a cold feeling of jealousy,—a jealousy which pained so proud a heart.

So quickly does Cupid whisper his tales Anna, in a moment perceived that the fair girl shrouded in her white dress and floating ringlets, was the destined bride of Lord Cunnington.

CHAPTER III.

Thou young aspirer! darest thou dream of fame,
And hope another age will read thy name?
The hidden strings of each voiceless pride,
The pangs unutter'd by the soul supplied ;
The ghastly dimness of dejected hope,
By dreams assail'd, with which no pride can cope.

ROBERT MONTGOMERY.

Cunnington and Anna, Baroness de Scala, now frequently met: they neither sought each other's conversation ; they neither suffered each other's gaze to linger,—but still it was a temptation, and the very effort to forget the past served only to foster remembrance.

Alice was far above the feeling of petty jealousy, and she could not but acknowledge

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