'OH, dear! I wish Hatfield had not been so precipitate!' saidRosalie next day at four P.M., as, with a portentous yawn, she laiddown her worsted-work and looked listlessly towards the window.'There's no inducement to go out now; and nothing to look forwardto. The days will be so long and dull when there are no parties toenliven them; and there are none this week, or next either, that Iknow of.'

'Pity you were so cross to him,' observed Matilda, to whom thislamentation was addressed. 'He'll never come again: and I suspectyou liked him after all. I hoped you would have taken him for yourbeau, and left dear Harry to me.'

'Humph! my beau must be an Adonis indeed, Matilda, the admired ofall beholders, if I am to be contented with him alone. I'm sorryto lose Hatfield, I confess; but the first decent man, or number ofmen, that come to supply his place, will be more than welcome.It's Sunday to-morrow - I do wonder how he'll look, and whetherhe'll be able to go through the service. Most likely he'll pretendhe's got a cold, and make Mr. Weston do it all.'

'Not he!' exclaimed Matilda, somewhat contemptuously. 'Fool as heis, he's not so soft as that comes to.'

Her sister was slightly offended; but the event proved Matilda wasright: the disappointed lover performed his pastoral duties asusual. Rosalie, indeed, affirmed he looked very pale and dejected:he might be a little paler; but the difference, if any, wasscarcely perceptible. As for his dejection, I certainly did nothear his laugh ringing from the vestry as usual, nor his voice loudin hilarious discourse; though I did hear it uplifted in rating thesexton in a manner that made the congregation stare; and, in histransits to and from the pulpit and the communion-table, there wasmore of solemn pomp, and less of that irreverent, self-confident,or rather self-delighted imperiousness with which he usually sweptalong - that air that seemed to say, 'You all reverence and adoreme, I know; but if anyone does not, I defy him to the teeth!' Butthe most remarkable change was, that he never once suffered hiseyes to wander in the direction of Mr. Murray's pew, and did notleave the church till we were gone.

Mr. Hatfield had doubtless received a very severe blow; but hispride impelled him to use every effort to conceal the effects ofit. He had been disappointed in his certain hope of obtaining notonly a beautiful, and, to him, highly attractive wife, but onewhose rank and fortune might give brilliance to far inferiorcharms: he was likewise, no doubt, intensely mortified by hisrepulse, and deeply offended at the conduct of Miss Murraythroughout. It would have given him no little consolation to haveknown how disappointed she was to find him apparently so littlemoved, and to see that he was able to refrain from casting a singleglance at her throughout both services; though, she declared, itshowed he was thinking of her all the time, or his eyes would havefallen upon her, if it were only by chance: but if they had sochanced to fall, she would have affirmed it was because they couldnot resist the attraction. It might have pleased him, too, in somedegree, to have seen how dull and dissatisfied she was throughoutthat week (the greater part of it, at least), for lack of her usualsource of excitement; and how often she regretted having 'used himup so soon,' like a child that, having devoured its plumcake toohastily, sits sucking its fingers, and vainly lamenting itsgreediness.

At length I was called upon, one fine morning, to accompany her ina walk to the village. Ostensibly she went to get some shades ofBerlin wool, at a tolerably respectable shop that was chieflysupported by the ladies of the vicinity: really - I trust there isno breach of charity in supposing that she went with the idea ofmeeting either with the Rector himself, or some other admirer bythe way; for as we went along, she kept wondering 'what Hatfieldwould do or say, if we met him,' &c. &c.; as we passed Mr. Green'spark-gates, she 'wondered whether he was at home - great stupidblockhead'; as Lady Meltham's carriage passed us, she 'wonderedwhat Mr. Harry was doing this fine day'; and then began to abusehis elder brother for being 'such a fool as to get married and goand live in London.'

'Why,' said I, 'I thought you wanted to live in London yourself.'

'Yes, because it's so dull here: but then he makes it still dullerby taking himself off: and if he were not married I might have himinstead of that odious Sir Thomas.'

Then, observing the prints of a horse's feet on the somewhat miryroad, she 'wondered whether it was a gentleman's horse,' andfinally concluded it was, for the impressions were too small tohave been made by a 'great clumsy cart-horse'; and then she'wondered who the rider could be,' and whether we should meet himcoming back, for she was sure he had only passed that morning; andlastly, when we entered the village and saw only a few of itshumble inhabitants moving about, she 'wondered why the stupidpeople couldn't keep in their houses; she was sure she didn't wantto see their ugly faces, and dirty, vulgar clothes - it wasn't forthat she came to Horton!'

Amid all this, I confess, I wondered, too, in secret, whether weshould meet, or catch a glimpse of somebody else; and as we passedhis lodgings, I even went so far as to wonder whether he was at thewindow. On entering the shop, Miss Murray desired me to stand inthe doorway while she transacted her business, and tell her ifanyone passed. But alas! there was no one visible besides thevillagers, except Jane and Susan Green coming down the singlestreet, apparently returning from a walk.

'Stupid things!' muttered she, as she came out after havingconcluded her bargain. 'Why couldn't they have their dolt of abrother with them? even he would be better than nothing.'

She greeted them, however, with a cheerful smile, and protestationsof pleasure at the happy meeting equal to their own. They placedthemselves one on each side of her, and all three walked awaychatting and laughing as young ladies do when they get together, ifthey be but on tolerably intimate terms. But I, feeling myself tobe one too many, left them to their merriment and lagged behind, asusual on such occasions: I had no relish for walking beside MissGreen or Miss Susan like one deaf and dumb, who could neither speaknor be spoken to.

But this time I was not long alone. It struck me, first, as veryodd, that just as I was thinking about Mr. Weston he should come upand accost me; but afterwards, on due reflection, I thought therewas nothing odd about it, unless it were the fact of his speakingto me; for on such a morning and so near his own abode, it wasnatural enough that he should be about; and as for my thinking ofhim, I had been doing that, with little intermission, ever since weset out on our journey; so there was nothing remarkable in that.

'You are alone again, Miss Grey,' said he.

'Yes.'

'What kind of people are those ladies - the Misses Green?'

'I really don't know.'

'That's strange - when you live so near and see them so often!'

'Well, I suppose they are lively, good-tempered girls; but Iimagine you must know them better than I do, yourself, for I neverexchanged a word with either of them.'

'Indeed? They don't strike me as being particularly reserved.'

'Very likely they are not so to people of their own class; but theyconsider themselves as moving in quite a different sphere from me!'

He made no reply to this: but after a short pause, he said, - 'Isuppose it's these things, Miss Grey, that make you think you couldnot live without a home?'

'Not exactly. The fact is I am too socially disposed to be able tolive contentedly without a friend; and as the only friends I have,or am likely to have, are at home, if it - or rather, if they weregone - I will not say I could not live - but I would rather notlive in such a desolate world.'

'But why do you say the only friends you are likely to have? Areyou so unsociable that you cannot make friends?'

'No, but I never made one yet; and in my present position there isno possibility of doing so, or even of forming a commonacquaintance. The fault may be partly in myself, but I hope notaltogether.'

'The fault is partly in society, and partly, I should think, inyour immediate neighbours: and partly, too, in yourself; for manyladies, in your position, would make themselves be noticed andaccounted of. But your pupils should be companions for you in somedegree; they cannot be many years younger than yourself.'

'Oh, yes, they are good company sometimes; but I cannot call themfriends, nor would they think of bestowing such a name on me - theyhave other companions better suited to their tastes.'

'Perhaps you are too wise for them. How do you amuse yourself whenalone - do you read much?'

'Reading is my favourite occupation, when I have leisure for it andbooks to read.'

From speaking of books in general, he passed to different books inparticular, and proceeded by rapid transitions from topic to topic,till several matters, both of taste and opinion, had been discussedconsiderably within the space of half an hour, but without theembellishment of many observations from himself; he being evidentlyless bent upon communicating his own thoughts and predilections,than on discovering mine. He had not the tact, or the art, toeffect such a purpose by skilfully drawing out my sentiments orideas through the real or apparent statement of his own, or leadingthe conversation by imperceptible gradations to such topics as hewished to advert to: but such gentle abruptness, and such single-minded straightforwardness, could not possibly offend me.

'And why should he interest himself at all in my moral andintellectual capacities: what is it to him what I think or feel?'I asked myself. And my heart throbbed in answer to the question.

But Jane and Susan Green soon reached their home. As they stoodparleying at the park-gates, attempting to persuade Miss Murray tocome in, I wished Mr. Weston would go, that she might not see himwith me when she turned round; but, unfortunately, his business,which was to pay one more visit to poor Mark Wood, led him topursue the same path as we did, till nearly the close of ourjourney. When, however, he saw that Rosalie had taken leave of herfriends and I was about to join her, he would have left me andpassed on at a quicker pace; but, as he civilly lifted his hat inpassing her, to my surprise, instead of returning the salute with astiff, ungracious bow, she accosted him with one of her sweetestsmiles, and, walking by his side, began to talk to him with allimaginable cheerfulness and affability; and so we proceeded allthree together.

After a short pause in the conversation, Mr. Weston made someremark addressed particularly to me, as referring to something wehad been talking of before; but before I could answer, Miss Murrayreplied to the observation and enlarged upon it: he rejoined; and,from thence to the close of the interview, she engrossed himentirely to herself. It might be partly owing to my own stupidity,my want of tact and assurance: but I felt myself wronged: Itrembled with apprehension; and I listened with envy to her easy,rapid flow of utterance, and saw with anxiety the bright smile withwhich she looked into his face from time to time: for she waswalking a little in advance, for the purpose (as I judged) of beingseen as well as heard. If her conversation was light and trivial,it was amusing, and she was never at a loss for something to say,or for suitable words to express it in. There was nothing pert orflippant in her manner now, as when she walked with Mr. Hatfield,there was only a gentle, playful kind of vivacity, which I thoughtmust be peculiarly pleasing to a man of Mr. Weston's dispositionand temperament.

When he was gone she began to laugh, and muttered to herself, 'Ithought I could do it!'

'Do what?' I asked.

'Fix that man.'

'What in the world do you mean?'

'I mean that he will go home and dream of me. I have shot himthrough the heart!'

'How do you know?'

'By many infallible proofs: more especially the look he gave mewhen he went away. It was not an impudent look - I exonerate himfrom that - it was a look of reverential, tender adoration. Ha,ha! he's not quite such a stupid blockhead as I thought him!'

I made no answer, for my heart was in my throat, or something likeit, and I could not trust myself to speak. 'O God, avert it!' Icried, internally - 'for his sake, not for mine!'

Miss Murray made several trivial observations as we passed up thepark, to which (in spite of my reluctance to let one glimpse of myfeelings appear) I could only answer by monosyllables. Whether sheintended to torment me, or merely to amuse herself, I could nottell - and did not much care; but I thought of the poor man and hisone lamb, and the rich man with his thousand flocks; and I dreadedI knew not what for Mr. Weston, independently of my own blightedhopes.

Right glad was I to get into the house, and find myself alone oncemore in my own room. My first impulse was to sink into the chairbeside the bed; and laying my head on the pillow, to seek relief ina passionate burst of tears: there was an imperative craving forsuch an indulgence; but, alas! I must restrain and swallow back myfeelings still: there was the bell - the odious bell for theschoolroom dinner; and I must go down with a calm face, and smile,and laugh, and talk nonsense - yes, and eat, too, if possible, asif all was right, and I was just returned from a pleasant walk.