The London papers now came in, and most of the gentlemen sat down to their perusal.  The colonel, however, replaced the men for a second game, and Denbigh still kept his place beside Mrs. Wilson and her niece.  The manners, the sentiments, the whole exterior of this gentleman were such as both the taste and judgment of the aunt approved of; his qualities were those which insensibly gained on the heart, and yet Mrs. Wilson noticed, with a slight uneasiness, the very evident satisfaction her niece took in his society.  In Dr. Ives she had great confidence, yet Dr. Ives was a friend, and probably judged him favorably; and again, Dr. Ives was not to suppose he was introducing a candidate for the hand of Emily in every gentleman he brought to the hall.  Mrs. Wilson had seen too often the ill consequences of trusting to impressions received from inferences of companionship, not to know the only safe way was to judge for ourselves:  the opinions of others might be partial—­might be prejudiced—­and many an improper connexion had been formed by listening to the sentiments of those who spoke without interest, and consequently without examination.  Not a few matches are made by this idle commendation of others, uttered by those who are respected, and which are probably suggested more by a desire to please than by reflection or even knowledge.  In short Mrs. Wilson knew that as our happiness chiefly interests ourselves, so it was to ourselves, or to those few whose interest was equal to our own, we could only trust those important inquiries necessary to establish a permanent opinion of character.  With Doctor Ives her communications on subjects of duty were frequent and confiding, and although she sometimes thought his benevolence disposed him to be rather too lenient to the faults of mankind, she entertained a profound respect for his judgment.  It had great influence with her, if it were not always conclusive; she determined, therefore, to have an early conversation with him on the subject so near her heart, and be in a great measure regulated by his answers in the steps to be immediately taken.  Every day gave her what he thought melancholy proof of the ill consequences of neglecting a duty, in the increasing intimacy of Colonel Egerton and Jane.

“Here, aunt,” cried John, as he ran over a paper, “is a paragraph relating to your favorite youth, our trusty and well beloved cousin the Earl of Pendennyss.”

“Read it,” said Mrs. Wilson, with an interest his name never failed to excite.

“We noticed to-day the equipage of the gallant Lord Pendennyss before the gates of Annandale-house, and understand the noble earl is last from Bolton castle, Northamptonshire.”

“A very important fact,” said Captain Jarvis, sarcastically; “Colonel Egerton and myself got as far as the village, to pay our respects to him, when we heard he had gone on to town.”

“The earl’s character, both as a man and a soldier,” observed the colonel, “gives him a claim to our attentions that his rank would not:  on that account we would have called.”