There was a very handsome suite of drawing-rooms in Sir Edward’s house, and the communicating doors were carelessly open.  Curiosity to view the furniture, or some such trifling reasons, induced the earl to find his way into the one adjoining that in which the family were seated.  It was unquestionably a dread of being lost in a strange house, that induced him to whisper a request to the blushing Emily, to be his companion; and lastly, it must have been nothing but a knowledge that a vacant room was easier viewed than one filled with company, that prevented any one from following them.  John smiled archly at Grace, doubtless in approbation of the comfortable time his friend was likely to enjoy, in his musings on the taste of their mother.  How the door became shut, we have ever been at a loss to imagine.

The company without were too good-natured and well satisfied with each other to miss the absentees, until the figure of the earl appeared at the reopened door, beckoning, with a face of rapture, to Lady Moseley and Mrs. Wilson.  Sir Edward next disappeared, then Jane, then Grace—­then Marian; until John began to think a tete-a-tete with Mr. Benfield was to be his morning’s amusement.

The lovely countenance of his wife, however, soon relieved his ennui, and John’s curiosity was gratified by an order to prepare for his sister’s wedding the following week.

Emily might have blushed more than common during this interview, but it is certain she did not smile less; and the earl, Lady Marian assured Sir Edward, was so very different a creature from what he had recently been, that she could hardly think it was the same sombre gentleman with whom she had passed the last few months in Wales and Westmoreland.

A messenger was dispatched for Dr. Ives and their friends at B——­, to be witnesses to the approaching nuptials; and Lady Moseley at length found an opportunity of indulging her taste for splendor on this joyful occasion.

Money was no consideration; and Mr. Benfield absolutely pined at the thought that the great wealth of the earl put it out of his power to contribute in any manner to the comfort of his Emmy.  However, a fifteenth codicil was framed by the ingenuity of Peter and his master, and if it did not contain the name of George Denbigh, it did that of his expected second son, Roderick Benfield Denbigh, to the qualifying circumstance of twenty thousand pounds, as a bribe for the name.

“And a very pretty child, I dare say, it will be,” said the steward, as he placed the paper in its repository.  “I don’t know that I ever saw, your honor, a couple that I thought would make a handsomer pair like, except—­” Peter’s mind dwelt on his own youthful form coupled with the smiling graces of Patty Steele.

“Yes! they are as handsome as they are good!” replied his master.  “I remember now, when our Speaker took his third wife, the world said that they were as pretty a couple as there was at court.  But my Emma and the earl will be a much finer pair.  Oh!  Peter Johnson; they are young, and rich, and beloved; but, after all, it avails but little if they be not good.”