trusting him, and lastly, it must be observed that she was one of those open-hearted people who cannot make a discovery nor endure an anxiety without imparting it. Her tact, indeed, led her to make a prudent choice of confidants, and in this case her son was by far the best, though she had spoken without premeditation. Her nature would never have allowed her to act as her daughter was doing; she would have been without the strength to conceal her feelings, especially when deprived of the safety-valve of free intercourse with their object.
The visit took place as arranged, and very uncomfortable it was to all who looked deeper than the surface. In the first place, Philip found there the last person he wished his friend to meet--Lady Eveleen, who had been persuaded to stay for the dinner-party; but Mr. Thorndale was, as Charles would have said, on his good behaviour, and, ashamed of the fascination her manners exercised over him, was resolved to resist it, answered her gay remarks with brief sentences and stiff smiles, and consorted chiefly with the gentlemen.
Laura was grave and silent, trying to appear unconscious, and only succeeding in being visibly constrained. Philip was anxious and stern in his attempts to appear unconcerned, and even Guy was not quite as bright and free as usual, being puzzled as to how far he was forgiven about the ball.
Amabel could not think what had come to every one, and tried in vain to make them sociable. In the evening they had recourse to a game, said to be for Charlotte's amusement, but in reality to obviate some of the stiffness and constraint; yet even this led to awkward situations. Each person was to set down his or her favourite character in history and fiction, flower, virtue, and time at which to have lived, and these were all to be appropriated to the writers. The first read was--
'Lily of the valley--truth--Joan of Arc--Padre Cristoforo--the present time.'
'Amy!' exclaimed Guy.
'I see you are right,' said Charles; 'but tell me your grounds!'
'Padre Cristoforo,' was the answer.
'Fancy little Amy choosing Joan of Arc,' said Eveleen, 'she who is afraid of a tolerable sized grasshopper.'
'I should like to have been Joan's sister, and heard her tell about her visions,' said Amy.
'You would have taught her to believe them,' said Philip.
'Taught her!' cried Guy. 'Surely you take the high view of her.'
'I think,' said Philip, 'that she is a much injured person, as much by her friends as her enemies; but I don't pretend to enter either enthusiastically or philosophically into her character.'
What was it that made Guy's brow contract, as he began to strip the feather of a pen, till, recollecting himself, he threw it from him with a dash, betraying some irritation, and folded his hands.
'Lavender,' read Charlotte.
'What should make any one choose that?' cried Eveleen.
'I know!' said Mrs. Edmonstone, looking up. 'I shall never forget the tufts of lavender round the kitchen garden at Stylehurst.'
Philip smiled. Charlotte proceeded, and Charles saw Laura's colour deepening as she bent over her work.
''Lavender--steadfastness--Strafford--Cordelia in 'King Lear'--the late war.' How funny!' cried Charlotte. 'For hear the next: 'Honeysuckle-- steadfastness--Lord Strafford--Cordelia--the present time.' Why, Laura, you must have copied it from Philip's.'
Laura neither looked nor spoke. Philip could hardly command his countenance as Eveleen laughed, and told him he was much flattered by those becoming blushes. But here Charles broke in,--'Come, make haste, Charlotte, don't be all night about it;' and as Charlotte paused, as if to make some dangerous remark, he caught the paper, and read the next himself. Nothing so startled Philip as this desire to cover their confusion. Laura was only sensible of the relief of having attention drawn from her by the laugh that followed.
'A shamrock--Captain Rock--the tailor that was 'blue moulded for want of a bating'--Pat Riotism--the time of Malachy with the collar of gold.'
'Eva!' cried Charlotte.
'Nonsense,' said Eveleen; 'I am glad I know your tastes, Charles. They do you honour.'
'More than yours do, if these are yours,' said Charles, reading them contemptuously; 'Rose--generosity--Charles Edward--Catherine Seyton-- the civil wars.'
'You had better not have disowned Charlie's, Lady Eveleen,' said Guy.
'Nay do you think I would put up with such a set as these?' retorted Charles; 'I am not fallen so low as the essence of young ladyism.'
'What can you find to say against them?' said Eveleen.
'Nothing,' said Charles, 'No one ever can find anything to say for or against young ladies' tastes.'
'You seem to be rather in the case of the tailor yourself,' said Guy, 'ready to do battle, if you could but get any opposition.'
'Only tell me,' said Amy, 'how you could wish to live in the civil wars?'
'O, because they would be so entertaining.'
'There's Paddy, genuine Paddy at last!' exclaimed Charles. 'Depend upon it, the conventional young lady won't do, Eva.'
After much more discussion, and one or two more papers, came Guy's--the last. 'Heather--Truth--King Charles--Sir Galahad--the present time.'
'Sir how much? exclaimed Charles.
'Don't you know him?' said Guy. 'Sir Galahad--the Knight of the Siege Perilous--who won the Saint Greal.'
'What language is that?' said Charles.
'What! Don't you know the Morte d'Arthur! I thought every one did! Don't you, Philip!'
'I once looked into it. It is very curious, in classical English; but it is a book no one could read through.'
'0h!' cried Guy, indignantly; then, 'but you only looked into it. If you had lived with its two fat volumes, you could not help delighting in it. It was my boating-book for at least three summers.'
'That accounts for it,' said Philip; 'a book so studied in boyhood acquires a charm apart from its actual merits.'
'But it has actual merits. The depth, the mystery, the allegory--the beautiful characters of some of the knights.'
'You look through the medium of your imagination,' said Philip; but you must pardon others for seeing a great sameness of character and adventure, and for disapproving of the strange mixture of religion and romance.'
'You've never read it,' said Guy, striving to speak patiently.
'A cursory view is sufficient to show whether a book will repay the time spent in reading it.'
'A cursory view enable one to judge better than making it your study? Eh, Philip?' said Charles.
'It is no paradox. The actual merits are better seen by an unprejudiced stranger than by an old friend who lends them graces of his own devising.'
Charles laughed: Guy pushed back his chair, and went to look out at the window. Perhaps Philip enjoyed thus chafing his temper; for after all he had said to Laura, it was satisfactory to see his opinion justified, so that he might not feel himself unfair. It relieved his uneasiness lest his understanding with Laura should be observed. It had been in great peril that evening, for as the girls went up to bed, Eveleen gaily said, 'Why, Laura, have you quarrelled with Captain Morville?'
'How can you say such things, Eva? Good night.' And Laura escaped into her own room.
'What's the meaning of it, Amy?' pursued Eveleen.
'Only a stranger makes us more formal,' said Amy.
'What an innocent you are! It is of no use to talk to you!' said Eveleen, running away.
'No; but Eva,' said Amy, pursuing her, 'don't go off with a wrong fancy. Charles has teased Laura so much about Philip, that of course it makes her shy of him before strangers; and it would never have done to laugh about their choosing the same things when Mr. Thorndale was there.'
'I must be satisfied, I suppose. I know that is what you think, for you could not say any other.'
'But what do you think?' said Amy, puzzled.
'I won't tell you, little innocence--it would only shock you.'
'Nothing you really thought about Laura could shock me,' said Amy; 'I don't mean what you might say in play.'
'Well, then, shall you think me in play or earnest when I say that I think Laura likes Philip very much?'
'In play' said Amy; 'for you know that if we had not got our own Charlie to show us what a brother is, we
