herself strongly disposed to encourage an acquaintance she found so agreeable, and to which she could see no reasonable objection.  Captain Jarvis, who was extremely offensive to her, from his vulgar familiarity, she barely tolerated, from the necessity of being civil, and keeping up sociability in the neighborhood.  It is true, she could not help being surprised that a gentleman, as polished, as the colonel, could find any pleasure in an associate like his friend, or even in the hardly more softened females of his family; then again, the flattering suggestion would present itself, that possibly he might have seen Emily at Bath, or Jane elsewhere, and availed himself of the acquaintance of young Jarvis to get into their neighborhood.  Lady Moseley had never been vain, or much interested about the disposal of her own person, previously to her attachment to her husband:  but her daughters called forth not a little of her natural pride—­we had almost said of her selfishness.

The attentions of the colonel were of the most delicate and insinuating kind; and Mrs. Wilson several times turned away in displeasure at herself, for listening with too much satisfaction to nothings, uttered in an agreeable manner, or, what was worse, false sentiments supported with the gloss of language and a fascinating deportment.  The anxiety of this lady on behalf of Emily kept her ever on the alert, when chance, or any chain of circumstances, threw her in the way of forming new connexions of any kind; and of late, as her charge approached the period of life her sex were apt to make that choice from which there is no retreat, her solicitude to examine the characters of the men who approached her was really painful.  As to Lady Moseley, her wishes disposed her to be easily satisfied, and her mind naturally shrank from an investigation to which she felt herself unequal; while Mrs. Wilson was governed by the convictions of a sound discretion, matured by long and deep reasoning, all acting on a temper at all times ardent, and a watchfulness calculated to endure to the end.

“Pray, my lady,” said Mrs. Jarvis, with a look of something like importance, “have you made any discovery about this Mr. Denbigh, who died in the church lately?”

“I did not know, ma’am,” replied Lady Moseley, “there was any discovery to be made.”

“You know, Lady Moseley,” said Colonel Egerton, “that in town, all the little accompaniments of such a melancholy death would have found their way into the prints; and I suppose this is what Mrs. Jarvis alludes to.”

“Oh yes,” cried Mrs. Jarvis, “the colonel is right.”  But the colonel was always right with that lady.

Lady Moseley bowed her head with dignity, and the colonel had too much tact to pursue the conversation; but the captain, whom nothing had ever yet abashed, exclaimed,

“These Denbighs could not be people of much importance—­I have never heard the name before.”

“It is the family name of the Duke of Derwent, I believe,” dryly remarked Sir Edward.