66 his head, who had approached from the lane be- | it rather difficult for poor Susan to keep up with hind them unobserved, with his gaze rivetted him-carrying baby under the umbrella with rather admiringly on Kitty as she leant over her very tender care, and seeming very much saddle talking to Susan, stepped forward, asking amused himself. "Who is the young lady?" in a gentle voice, What's the matter? is the he suddenly demanded of Susan. poor woman taken ill? Can I be of any service? pray command me;" and he looked at Kitty, who raised her head in great surprise, and looked at him in return. He was quite a gentleman, and a very handsome one too, and addressed her in so respectful a tone, that Kitty immediately answered "I thank you, sir; it is the daughter of my nurse; yonder stands the cottage, across the heath-she is quite overcome with fatigue, illness, and terror of the storm, and the poor child is very young, and—.” Here, give it me," exclaimed the young man in hearty tone, "I will carry the little thing quite safe under my umbrella." "You?" said Kitty, casting her eyes over his handsome form and dress, and struggling hard to keep down a hearty laugh, you carry a baby, sir? you would let it fall, and 66 No, no, not a bit of it! here, give it me;" and he stooped and took the child out of its mother's arms, who gazed at him in astonishment, but offered no resistance. Kitty raised her eyes, and gave him one of her beautiful smiles; their eyes met, and the young stranger blushed and laughed too. And then Kitty blushed, and looked down, biting her lips hard, to suppress a regular burst of very laughter. "Thank you, sir," she remarked. "And now, Susan, come, rouse yourself, there's a good girl. See, baby's in safe quarters under the umbrella. Now give me that basket; and here, Neptune, you can carry this little bundle; and surely, Susan, you can manage to carry that great bottle." In the meanwhile, baby took her little thumb out of her mouth; and after staring a moment or so with her great round eyes, like a little owl, into those of the stranger, with intense surprise, made a most strenuous endeavour to get his nose into her mouth; failing in which laudable intention, she gave a crow of exceeding delight, and replacing her thumb in her mouth, resigned herself cheerfully to the present state of things. The rain came down in real earnest. The storm-wind blew, and the thunder bellowed far and wide; and away galloped Kitty with the great basket, followed by Neptune bearing the bundle, over the heath towards the cottage, leaving the young stranger and Susan to bring up the rear, consisting of baby and the big bottle. Directly Kitty found herself out of hearing, despite the storm, she burst out into a hearty laugh. "How ridiculous he looks!" "I wonder who he is? if any fashionable people should chance to meet him, how ashamed the poor fellow would look. Ha, ha, ha!" said she. The meanwhile, the stranger strode towards the cottage with immense strides, which made Dear me, sir, don't you know?" returned Susan, in extreme surprise, naturally supposing that everybody must know her darling Miss Kitty. Why, sir, that's Miss Ellerton, as beautiful as she is rich, and good as she is beautiful. She's a regular angel, sir, if ever there was one in this world! and what we poor people should do without her, sir, I can't tellalways a helping of somebody, bless her dear innocent heart!" "Indeed!" said the stranger, in some surprise. "That then is the beautiful Clara Ellerton, that I have heard called the Belle; but I fancied that she had black eyes and hair." "Oh, yes, sir, you are right; this is not Miss Clara, but Miss Catharine Ellerton, or our darling Miss Kitty, as we love to call her. Why, sir, some people do call Miss Clara, with her black eyes and hair, and tall figure, the Beauty of the place; but dear me, us poor people don't think so at all; and in my mind, one blink of Miss Kitty's sweet eyes is worth all the other. And then she has no pride like Miss Clara; and if I was a gentleman, I should not look at Miss Ellerton beside her lovely young sister---that I shouldn't, one moment; but every one has a different taste, they say; but do pray, sir, let me take the baby from you, I feel stronger now, and am so ashamed that a gentleman like you should condescend. You are very good, sir, I am sure," she replied, curtsying, and wiping the tears from her eyes, as the stranger refused to resign it. " No, no, Susan, I will carry it. Come on, never mind the thunder-you see baby likes it. So, so, my little daisy bud!" and he cuddled it up snugly under the flap of his coat. Susan looked at him as only a mother can look, and thought him the very nicest and handsomest gentleman as ever was-not a bit of pride about him. And then they reached the cottage. Kitty and Neptune had each delivered up their respective bundles; and Kitty was still seated on her steed, under the thick boughs of the old elms, watching the storm passing over, listening to the soft pattering of the rain-drops in the leaves, and drinking in the delicious fragrance which the yellow gorse and heath-bells sent up to the heavens from the refreshing shower. "and Pray come in, miss," said Susan, taking the baby from the gentleman's arms; you, sir," pray honour our poor cottage by walking in till the rain is over." And she made him a low curtsey. The young stranger resigned baby, and then approached Kitty to hand her from her horse; but she waved him off, saying, "Pray, sir, step into the cottage out of the rain; I ain quite sheltered here, thank you." The young gentleman smiled, turned, and taking up the big bottle which Susan had put with regard to your appearance; and really, for Clara's sake, it will never do to allow a fashionable young man-as doubtless Sir Eustace is, fresh from the Continent too-to form an unfavourable opinion of our gentility." down by the door, stepped with it into the cottage. Kitty had no sooner seen him fairly in, rightly guessing that he fully intended to come back and take his place beside her under the tree, than she emerged, quick as thought, from her recess, and cantered off across the heath, Oh, rest you content, mamma," returned regardless of the rain, followed by Neptune, in- Kitty, laughing. "I have not the very slightest dulging herself in a little saucy laugh, elicited desire to see, for I have not the faintest rememby her own good management, and the anti-brance of him; and I have besides I don't know cipated disappointment of the young stranger. how many calls to make, so I shall leave the gentleman entirely to your care if it so please you.” He did return almost immediately, as Kitty had foreseen, but only to catch a glimpse of her receding form, as it vanished across the heath like a fairy. He laughed, bit his lip, and stood a few moments gazing after her. "So, Miss Kitty!" he muttered to himself," you have been too cunning for me, you sweet little gipsy; but we shall meet again, depend upon it." Then spreading his umbrella once more, he turned, and proceeded on his way with hasty strides. THE MORNING CALL. Kitty and Neptune reached home in a very draggled state, of course; but they did not care for that; Neptune, as far as regarded himself, rather liked it, in fact. Kitty never mentioned the little incident of the morning, because, in the first place, neither mother nor sister cared anything about Kitty's pursuits and adventures; and in the second, because they would, had she done so, have infallibly delivered their thoughts upon the subject, in remarks not very flattering to Kitty's self-love. The following morning broke in dazzling splendour after the refreshing storm of the preceding day, and Kitty trotted down to the beach as usual for her morning's bath; had her life saved again, as usual, by honest Neptune; and was seated at the breakfast-table before Mrs. Ellerton and Clara had descended from their respective chambers. When they did make their appearance, rather later than usual, Kitty perceived that both mother and sister were dressed with most particular care. Clara was arrayed in the sweetest of French lace caps, and the very loveliest pale pink muslin dress; both of which, independent of the rich evening dress, she had discovered in the before-mentioned London parcel directed to herself. They entirely became her style of beauty, hence her morning salutation to Kitty was more cordial and gracious than usual, "Does not the pink dress become Clara, mamma?" exclaimed Kitty, in delighted survey of the same; " and the lace cap on her dark hair? Clary, you look perfectly captivating, my dear; and I only hope that the young baronet may take it into his head to call this morning, and I think it very probable that he will do so." "Yes, Catherine," returned Mrs. Ellerton, "I should think that, as a matter of course, he would; so pray attend a little to your dress. You are, allow me to say, rather too careless | Clara said not a word, too well pleased by her sister's presents and admiration to gainsay her; and the mamma merely shrugged her shoulders, saying, "Oh, very well, Catherine, please yourself." So that, after making rather a hearty breakfast, for a delicate young lady, Kitty donned riding dress and sallied out, in the first place to the old summer-house in the garden, where, every morning, seated in state, with Neptune squatted on his haunches, listening in becoming gravity on one side, and Mabel on the other, she held levée, and adjusted the intricate affairs, disputes, &c., of the village, with a strict impartiality and prudence that gave universal satisfaction. After which she mounted Wildfire and cantered away. The time sped on. The morning wore away, and noonday passed, so that it was near four in the afternoon when she returned; and thinking, of course, that if Sir Eustace had called, his visit must have been made and he gone long ago, she hastily dismounted, threw the bridle to the groom, and tripping through the garden, came bounding through one of the glass doors into the drawing-room, with her hair hanging all about her shoulders, and cheeks rosy with health and high spirits. She was in the middle of the room before she observed a gentleman seated by the other window, conversing with her mother and sister: he turned, rose instantly, and bent low to Kitty with a very significant smile on his face, whilst Mrs. Ellerton said hastily, My youngest daughter, Miss Catherine Ellerton-Sir Eustace Allonby." 66 "What," exclaimed Kitty, starting back, and gazing with utter astonishment at the gentleman, in whom she at once recognized the handsome young stranger who had carried baby, "are you Sir Eustace Allonby?" And to the infinite astonishment and indignation of both Mrs. Ellerton and Clara, Kitty threw herself on the sofa, and, putting her hands before her face, burst out into a ringing peal of laughter, in which she was heartily joined by Sir Eustace. "You escaped me in a very unfair way yesterday, Miss Catherine," he said, still laughing, 'just as I was on the point of introducing myself to you as an old friend; but you see I have found you out to-day; and I do think my services deserve a better return than being laughed at." "Oh," said Kitty, still convulsed with laughter, "it is really too amusing! Had any of your gay friends met you, what would have become of poor baby? You would have thrown Oh, how dare you, Sir Eustace !" exclaimed Kitty, interrupting him. "You would do it; no one asked you. I had nothing to do with it. You took quite a fancy to baby, and so did baby to you. I can see you now!--ha! ha! ha!" | And Kitty was convulsed again. "Catherine!" "Is it possible!" exclaimed both Mrs. Ellerton and Clara in a breath, looking vexation and immense surprise still. You see she only laughs at me for my faithful services," said the baronet, joining again in Kitty's mirth. I shall certainly take care how I offer to carry a baby again, if this is all the reward I am to get. I fear me that I have lost caste, and all for a baby!" Clara darted a look of vindictive spite at her sister. Mrs. Ellerton remarked in a vexed tone of voice, "You really should have a little more discrimination, Catherine. You forget how little your extreme youth and want of experience entitles you to make yourself the patroness of all the beggars' brats and distressed people about: they do but prey and impose upon your foolish good nature." 66 It was poor Susan's baby, mamma!" said Kitty; "she had almost fainted through fatigue and terror of the storm; and there she sat at the very extremity of the heath, rocking herself to and fro, with poor baby in her lap, and all her parcels and bundles scattered around her on the grass; and I was trying to rouse her and help her on, when up came this gallant cavalier. How could I possibly know that it was Sir Eustace? Who could have dreamt of finding a fashionable young baronet wandering about a lone wild heath, in the midst of thunder and lightning, like one of the witches in Macbeth? Ha ha ha! He would thrust himself blindly in the hurly burly. Besides Fashion is so ridiculous, that it may be quite the rage, for what I know, for baronets to carry babies." And Kitty, quite unable to contain her mirth within proper bounds, ran out of the room, leaving Sir Eustace to make the best of it, and did not return to the drawing-room until she had seen him fairly mount his steed and depart. "So, my sweet, modest, innocent sister! You seem perfectly to understand the art of intrigue!" said Clara with a bitter sneer to Kitty on her re-entering the drawing-room. "You have managed things admirably, I must say; both mamma and myself cannot but admire your charming simplicity. You would rather not meet Sir Eustace, forsooth! You cared not about baronets-ha! ha!" "Is it possible, Clara, that you can mean what you say?" returned Kitty, in a grave tone. For shame! you will think better when you come to reflect. I am sure mamma cannot for a moment share your unjust, and, allow me to add, very ridiculous suspicions. It certainly was the very last place in the world that I should have expected to meet Sir Eustace, in the midst of that wild, lonely heath.” "At all events, Catherine," remarked Mrs. Ellerton, who had resumed her knitting, coldly, "it cannot but have lowered you in the opinion of Sir Eustace; your conduct throughout has not been regulated by that strict feminine propriety which he would naturally suppose a daughter of mine to possess. Your loud laughter-giggling would be perhaps the more appropriate term-was, you must allow me to say, most unfeminine, even to give it the mildest term." "What most surprises me, mamma," exclaimed Clara bitterly, "is, how he could so dreadfully lower himself! He is not quite so refined a man as I anticipated-as his manners and fashionable dress would lead one to expect. However, he evidently regards the whole affair as a frolic, and my sweet sister as a romping child, quite ignorant of the rules of good breeding. So it matters very little." Kitty began to giggle again. "His highness may think of your poor little romping sister just what he pleases, but he certainly has not lowered himself; and I cannot choose but marvel, sister mine, that you should hold the young gentleman in such light estimation for possessing a kind, feeling heart, under that smart satin waistcoat. I begin to change my mind: you shall have the fine waistcoat and I will have the heart, then; for I rather begin to like the young baronet-and I think I shall have him," returned Kitty with spirit. "Oh, no doubt you would," answered Clara with flashing eye. "It is very evident; but you forget that it is also quite necessary, in order to bring that to pass, that he should like you- -a thing very improbable, in my humble opinion." 66 "Content you, sweet Clary," returned Kitty. It is very improbable, as you say, that he should cast his lofty eyes on such a poor little rustic as myself; but what then? Heigho! I have a silent sorrow here, And that puts me in mind," continued Kitty, smiling again, "that I promised to impart both sage advice and sweet consolation to the drooping heart of poor Lucy Evans, which really does pine under silent sorrow-the course of true love again not proving quite so smooth as one could desire. So adieu, adieu! remember me.' And Kitty tripped out through the glass door into the garden, singing a snatch of an old song. THE MEETING IN THE LANE. Sir Eustace had made the round of visits to all the respectable families in the neighbourhood, and of course had been exceedingly admiredmore than one young lady pronouncing him as faultless, and everything that the heart of the most fastidious woman could desire. Another called him a perfect love; and a third, again, a darling pet. One very romantic young girl of sixteen even went so far as to say that he was beautiful as an angel; whilst another again denied it, but allowed that he really dressed like one. Whether his calling himself baronet, and the Lord of Allonby Hall, and ten thousand a year, had anything to do with the extravagant encomiums of these fair damsels, it is quite impossible for me to say. Parties of eager young ladies crowded into the drawing-room at Rosemead, both to deliver their own opinions, and to receive that of others, on this most important topic. He was not a bit proud, they all agreed; at the same time they were unanimous in pronouncing him a very romantic-looking creature, and that (in consequence, I suppose) he could not choose but give them a grand party at the Hall-a regular ball. How delightful it would be! Many a fair bosom beat higher, and many a bright eye grew yet brighter, in its inward dreaming of what might possibly come to pass. Clara, secure in the vast superiority of her charms, had no fears. His eye had rested upon her, with most evident signs of admiration-so the mamma assured her, and so her own heart or vanity whispered too. And the following day a card of invitation arrived for a ball at Allonby Hall; or a little dance, as it was modestly worded. Milliners were in request on all sides. As for Clara, her sister's beautiful present of an elegant evening dress, made by a fashionable London milliner, set her heart quite at rest; although her manner to that kind sister became colder than ever. As for Kitty, she laughed at them all; quizzed the young barrow-knight, as she persisted in calling him, much to her mother's and sister's annoyance and indignation, and went on her own way as unconcerned as pos sible. behave yourself, I may find another interesting baby for you to carry." You are too good, lovely little condescension!" he returned, laughing. "No; you do not encourage virtuous merit; it only meets with ridicule at your hands." "Virtue ought to prove its own reward," returned Kitty; "shielding a poor little forlorn baby in your arms from the pitiless storm, may decidedly be considered a virtuous action. You ought not to mind a little innocent, and perhaps profitable raillery. I had to bear all the blame; you laid it all ungenerously on my shoulders; in short you behaved very badly, and got me into sad disgrace; therefore, now I think of it, I shall have nothing more to do with you." "Alas for me, then!" he said, bending his head, and laying one hand on his heart. “You will not, I sincerely hope and pray, carry your resentment so far as to absent yourself from the dance to-morrow evening. Deprive us of your sweet presence! that would be punishing me far more than I deserve. You will come?" "Yes, perhaps I may come, if it be not too grand an affair. I hate all grand doings. Besides, you will have plenty of belles there without me, you may rely upon it; so, now I think of it, perhaps I shall not come.' 66 Oh, but I must insist upon your coming; if you don't, I don't know what I won't do and say spiteful. Remember, I have only just returned to my native land after long years of absence; all my tenants are to be assembled in the park; and all my neighbours, according to all the rules of courtesy, ought to honour me with their presence at this my first little merrymaking." "Well," said Kitty, "there's something in that, certainly; the event is quite touching, and deserves to be celebrated in verse :— The serfs are glad through Allonby's domain, Kitty indulged in a little saucy chuckle, after this bright effusion. "Oh, spare me! spare me, fair satirist,” said the young baronet, joining heartily in her laugh; "but you seem to forget that I have got you safe in this lonely lane; so if you are so proud and saucy I shall run away with you to Allonby, and lock you up safe and fast till the evening of the ball." "You had better take care what you are about," returned Kitty, blushing and laughing, if you imagine that I am unprotected you will find yourself most wofully mistaken. Look at my body guard Neptune: he would tear you in pieces were you to lay a finger upon me, so prenez garde." Honest Neptune, who was seated on his haunches, with half-open mouth and eyes, regarding the baronet with great interest, hearing his name suddenly pronounced, and rather fancying that something was expected from him, but not knowing exactly what, started up, looked round him, and espying a fine tuft of primroses in the hedge, pounced upon and pawed it all up with intense excitement, and rushing with it to his young mistress, laid his huge fore-paws on pony's neck, and deposited the treasure in her lap. After which, thinking in his innocent heart that he had done the very thing that was expected at his paws, he resumed his former attitude, and intense admiration of the baronet. "I see, I see," said the baronet, shrugging his shoulders," you are too strong for me, fair lady, your body guard even anticipates every wish-I am afraid to venture. You put me in mind of the syren in the fable-half beautiful woman and half dragon-you attract the poor innocent stranger with your fascinating smile, and then out rushes Neptune upon him openmouthed, the while you sting him to death with your sharp tongue." "Oh," said Kitty, "if you are going to be abusive, it is time for me to go. You had better go and make your complaints, and vent all your spite to mamma and Clara, who are blinding their eyes over their needles, this fine morning. As for me, I have a hundred things to do, far more important, and indeed far more respectable too, than idly chatting with a gay young baronet in a retired lane-so good bye," and Kitty, giving him an arch nod, laid her whip on pony's shoulders, and cantered away like a fairy. "You saucy little puss!" exclaimed Sir Eustace, gazing very admiringly after her, and smiling. "She's a fascinating creature, upon my soul." And then turning, he sauntered slowly down the lane towards Rosemead, talking the while to himself—" Yes, Susan is decidedly right; she is worth a dozen of that cold, heartless sister of hers. Her eyes are truly bewitching. Poor little dear!" he continued in softer tone; "there is little love evinced to her, I can see, either by that conceited artful sister, or cold-blooded mother-it is well for her that she has a fairy world of her own-humph!" and turning his horse's head sharp round, with an angry "Pshaw!" he leaped him over the hedge, and rode away across the fields, in a directly different direction to Rosemead. "Well," said Kitty on her return, “what did the baronet say?" "What, Sir Eustace?” exclaimed Clara. “He has not been here. Did you meet him, Catherine?" And the colour deepened on Clara's brow. Kitty instantly saw her mistake when too late. "Yes," she continued, "I met him, and had a moment's conversation. I only thought that he might possibly have called; he did not say he was going to do so." Clara's eyes flashed. "I can see it all very well. Did I not tell you so, Mamma? Your contrivance, Miss, is truly admirable for your years. Mrs. Ellerton glanced severely at Catherine. "I do trust, Catherine, that you are not endeavouring to frustrate my views-or mar your sister's future prospects.-Blest as you are with a handsome independence, I should consider such conduct as little short of fiendish." "Good gracious, mamma!" exclaimed Kitty, almost losing her equanimity; "you will really make me hate Sir Eustace. I really-" "No fear of that!" remarked Clara bitterly, biting her lip, with a scornful look. Kitty instantly regained her composure, and taking her album, seated herself quietly at her drawing-table-adding another leaf to an enormous rose, which grew very slowly beneath her fair fingers; and which might be considered, by very severe critics, to bear no common resemblance to a red cabbage. However, Kitty seemed to think it very fine indeed, and worked away with evident satisfaction, perfectly regardless of the conversation and inuendoes of mother and sister. (To be concluded in our next.) SONNET. The sternest creed our heart upholds in age Thence springs perplexity. Our wand'ring brain SONNET. J. J. REYNOLDS. BY CALDER CAMPBELL. Men pray for happiness, yet scoff at love, As fools who wish for summer mock the beam Of sunshine, which to poet-minds may seem The shadows flung from angel-wings above! Men pray for happiness, but give no thought Of high devotion, in their heedless youth, To Love, the pure and holy-Love, whose truth Can ne'er be fairly tested till 'tis sought With a most bold humility; for might Belongs to humble enterprize! We cast Dark mists across our minds, that thus the right We lightly leave for wrong. The bounteous Past Sets such bright pictures before all men's eyes, As prove that Love as long as Heaven will last! D |