“Well, colonel, I am happy to tell you I have heard very lately from your uncle, Sir Edgar.”

“Indeed, madam!” replied the colonel, starting.  “He was well, I hope.”

“Very well, the day before yesterday.  His neighbor, old, Mr. Holt, is a lodger in the same house with us at L——­; and as I thought you would like to hear, I made particular inquiries about the baronet.”  The word baronet was pronounced with emphasis and a look of triumph, as if it would say, you see we have baronets as well as you.  As no answer was made by Egerton, excepting an acknowledging bow, the merchant and his family departed.

“Well, John,” cried Emily, with a smile, “we have heard more good to-day of our trusty and well-beloved cousin, the Earl of Pendennyss.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed her brother.  “You must keep Emily for his lordship, positively, aunt:  she is almost as great an admirer of him as yourself.”

“I apprehend it is necessary she should be quite as much so, to become his wife,” said Mrs. Wilson.

“Really,” said Emily, more gravely, “if all one hears of him be true, or even half, it would be no difficult task to admire him.”

Denbigh was standing leaning on the back of a chair, in situation where he could view the animated countenance of Emily as she spoke, and Mrs. Wilson noticed an uneasiness and a changing of color in him that appeared uncommon from so trifling a cause.  Is it possible, she thought, Denbigh can harbor so mean a passion as envy?  He walked away, as if unwilling to hear more, and appeared much engrossed with his own reflections for the remainder of the evening.  There were moments of doubting which crossed the mind of Mrs. Wilson with a keenness of apprehension proportionate to her deep interest in Emily, with respect to certain traits in the character of Denbigh; and this, what she thought a display of unworthy feeling, was one of them.  In the course of the evening, the cards for the expected ball arrived, and were accepted.  As this new arrangement for the morrow interfered with their intended visit to Mrs. Fitzgerald, a servant was sent with a note of explanation in the morning and a request that on the following day the promised communication might be made.  To this arrangement the recluse assented, and Emily prepared for the ball with a melancholy recollection of the consequences which grew out of the last she had attended—­melancholy at the fate of Digby, and pleasure at the principles manifested by Denbigh, on the occasion.  The latter, however, with a smile, excused himself from being of the party, telling Emily he was so awkward that he feared some unpleasant consequences to himself or his friends would arise from his inadvertencies, did he venture again with her into such an assembly.

Emily sighed gently, as she entered the carriage of her aunt early in the afternoon, leaving Denbigh in the door of the lodge, and Egerton absent on the execution of some business; the former to amuse himself as he could until the following morning, and the latter to join them in the dance in the evening.