On returning to my window, I beheld another carriage at the door. Was it his? No; it was Mr Boarham's plain, dark chariot; and there stood he upon the steps, carefully superintending the dislodging of his various boxes and packages. What a collection! one would have thought he projected a visit of six months at least. A considerable time after, came Lord Lowborough in his barouche. Is he one of the profligate friends, I wonder? I should think not; for no one could call him a jolly companion, I'm sure,--and besides, he appears too sober and gentlemanly in his demeanour to merit such suspicions. He is a tall, thin, gloomy-looking man, apparently between thirty and forty, and of a somewhat sickly, card worn aspect.

At last, Mr Huntingdon's light phaeton came bowling merrily up the lawn, I had but a transient glimpse of him, for the moment it stopped, he sprang out over the side on to the portico steps, and disappeared into the house.

I now submitted to be dressed for dinner--a duty which Rachel had been urging upon me for the last twenty minutes; and when that important business was completed, I repaired to the drawing room where I found Mr and Miss Wilmot, and Milicent Hargrave already assembled. Shortly after, Lord Lowborough entered, and then Mr Boarham, who seemed quite willing to forget and forgive my former conduct, and to hope that a little conciliation and steady perseverance on his part might yet succeed in bringing me to reason. While I stood at the window, conversing with Milicent, he came up to me, and was beginning to talk in nearly his usual strain, when Mr Huntingdon entered the room.

`How will he greet me, I wonder?' said my bounding heart; and instead of advancing to meet him, I turned to the window to hide or subdue my emotion. But having saluted his host and hostess, and the rest of the company, he came to me, ardently squeezed my hand, and murmured be was glad to see me once again. At that moment dinner was announced, my aunt desired him to take Miss Hargrave into the dining-room, and odious Mr Wilmot, with un speakable grimaces, offered his arm to me; and I was condemned to sit between himself and Mr Boarham. But afterwards, when we were all again assembled in the drawing-room, I was indemnified for so much suffering by a few delightful minutes of conversation with Mr Huntingdon.

In the course of the evening, Miss Wilmot was called upon to sing and play for the amusement of the company, and I to exhibit my drawings, and, though he likes music, and she is an accomplished musician, I think I am right in affirming that he paid more attention to my drawings than to her music.

So far, so good;--but, hearing him pronounce, sotto voce, but with par emphasis concerning one of the pieces, `This is better than all!'--I looked up, curious to see which it was, and, to my horror, beheld him complacently gazing at the back of the picture--It was his own face that I had sketched there and for gotten to rub out! To make matters worse, in the agony of the moment, I attempted to snatch it from his hand;--but he pre vented me, and exclaiming, `No--by George, I'll keep it!' placed it against his waistcoat, and buttoned his coat upon it with a de lighted chuckle.

Then, drawing a candle close to his elbow, he gathered all the drawings to himself, as well what he had seen as the others, and muttering, `I must look at both sides now,' he eagerly commenced an examination which I watched, at fr>t, with tolerable composure, in the confidence that his vanity would not be gratified by any further discoveries; for, though I must plead guilty to having disfigured the backs of several with abortive attempts to delineate that too fascinating physiognomy, I was sure that, with that one unfortunate exception, I had carefully obliterated all such witnesses of my infatuation. But the pencil frequently leaves an impression upon cardboard that no amount of rubbing can efface. Such, it seems, was the case with most of these; and I confess I trembled when I saw him holding them so close to the candle, and poring so intently over the seeming blanks; but still I trusted he would not be able to make out these dim traces to his own satisfaction. I was mistaken, however--having ended his scrutiny, lie quietly remarked,--

`I perceive, the backs of young ladies' drawings, like the post scripts of their letters, are the most important and interesting part of the concern.'