OR WHICH WILL HE WED ? 31 



SO eminently distinguished his companion. Versed in all the 

 mysteries of ton, the Lady Eleanor displayed no diffidence in 

 sharing the stores of her information, and with equal fluency 

 and shallowness, she dilated upon the rapturous delight of town, 

 and "at one fell sivoop" sacrificed the country, its solemn shades, 

 and streams, its sunny meads, and calmer joys, to the heat, 

 noise, hollowness, and dissipation of the metropolis. From 

 one subject to another she turned with childish volatility : the 

 continental fetes, galas, drawing-rooms, and levees, the parks 

 and theatres were, in turn, touched upon and dismissed, while 

 the Pasta, the Malibran, the Lalande, the Brocard, and the 

 Taglioni, were each laden with applause. Henry certainly 

 felt some degree of interest in topics which carried his ideas to 

 the scenes of his accustomed enjoyment, but alas ! how un- 

 worthy of her appearance was the mind ofthe fair speaker ! vain, 

 empty, frivolous, and coquettish, she resembled that flower, 

 which, although gorgeously arrayed by the admonitory hand of 

 nature, has no fragrance to gratify the sense. Still Henry was 

 amused by her giddiness, and, before half an hour had glided by, 

 he was engaged in a regular flirtation, carried on by compli- 

 ments paid and provoked with infinite address. There was 

 novelty in the aff'air, situated as he was in an old family man- 

 sion, buried amidst woods and hills, which, apparently, closed 

 it from all communion with "the world," that is " the world of 

 to7if" and the gay soldier felt too much pleasure in gazing upon 

 the sapphic features of his fair friend, to scan, too critically, 

 the want of intrinsic charm in their possessor. In conversation 

 light and flimsy, but not half so brilliant as the wing of a butter- 

 fly, an hour was resigned to memory or oblivion, and when Mrs. 

 Atherstone and the Colonel returned from their excursion, 

 Henry was, secretly, wondering how nature could have formed a 

 creature so captivating, so intellectually lovely in the character 

 of her countenance, and so perfectly a blank. Where was the 

 wit, the brilliancy, the enthusiasm, the delicate archness, the 

 vivacity, united with the fine understanding of her country- 

 women? Echo might have answered* '* Where?" "But she 

 is beautiful ! intensely beautiful," he reflected, looking at her as 

 the connoisseur gazes upon a chef d'auvre of the sculptor. 

 ** Heavens ! what a figure ! what a superb head ! what a digni- 

 fied profile ! Would that she were ever silent since those 

 peerless lips open only to betray how false is the impression 

 created by those eyes !" 



" Henry," whispered the Colonel gaily, " beauty, I know, is 

 your divinity — go, worship at her shrine ;" his glance fell upon 

 Lady Eleanor, who, in all the radiant glory of her silent charms, 

 looked like a juvenile personification of Minerva, pale, spiritual, 



* " Where are they ? — where are they ?" An Echo replied. — Vide " Poems 

 by W. T. Moncrieff, Esq.'* p. 163, (for private distribution only.) 



