fitting to her, betrayed.  Still to be sweet, still to smile and to amuse,—­still to give her zealous attention to the business of the diplomatist’s Election, still to go through her church-services devoutly, required heroism; she was equal to it, for she had remarkable courage; but it was hard to feel no longer at one with Providence.  Had not Providence suggested Sir Abraham to her? killed him off at the right moment in aid of her?  And now Providence had turned, and the assistance she had formerly received from that Power, and given thanks for so profusely, was the cause of her terror.  It was absolutely as if she had been borrowing from a Jew, and were called upon to pay fifty-fold interest.

‘Evan!’ she writes in a gasp to Harriet.  ’We must pack up and depart.  Abandon everything.  He has disgraced us all, and ruined himself.  Impossible that we can stay for the pic-nic.  We are known, dear.  Think of my position one day in this house!  Particulars when I embrace you.  I dare not trust a letter here.  If Evan had confided in me!  He is impenetrable.  He will be low all his life, and I refuse any more to sully myself in attempting to lift him.  For Silva’s sake I must positively break the connection.  Heaven knows what I have done for this boy, and will support me in the feeling that I have done enough.  My conscience at least is safe.’

Like many illustrious Generals, the Countess had, for the hour, lost heart.  We find her, however, the next day, writing: 

’Oh!  Harriet! what trials for sisterly affection!  Can I possibly—­ weather the gale, as the old L——­ sailors used to say?  It is dreadful.  I fear I am by duty bound to stop on.  Little Bonner thinks Evan quite a duke’s son, has been speaking to her Grandmama, and to-day, this morning, the venerable old lady quite as much as gave me to understand that an union between our brother and her son’s child would sweetly gratify her, and help her to go to her rest in peace.  Can I chase that spark of comfort from one so truly pious?  Dearest Juliana!  I have anticipated Evan’s feeling for her, and so she thinks his conduct cold.  Indeed, I told her, point blank, he loved her.  That, you know, is different from saying, dying of love, which would have been an untruth.  But, Evan, of course!  No getting him!  Should Juliana ever reproach me, I can assure the child that any man is in love with any woman—­which is really the case.  It is, you dear humdrum! what the dictionary calls “nascent.”  I never liked the word, but it stands for a fact.’

The Countess here exhibits the weakness of a self-educated intelligence.  She does not comprehend the joys of scholarship in her employment of Latinisms.  It will be pardoned to her by those who perceive the profound piece of feminine discernment which precedes it.

‘I do think I shall now have courage to stay out the pic-nic,’ she continues.  ’I really do not think all is known.  Very little can be known, or I am sure I could not feel as I do.  It would burn me up.  George Up—–­ does not dare; and his most beautiful lady-love had far better not.  Mr. Forth may repent his whispers.  But, Oh! what Evan may do!  Rose is almost detestable.  Manners, my dear?  Totally deficient!