LYNMERE, at tea-time, returned from his ride, with a fixed plan of frightening or disgusting the baronet from the alliance; with Eugenia, herself, he imagined the attempt would be vain, for he did not conceive it possible any woman who had eyes could be induced to reject him.

Determined, therefore, to indulge, in full, both the natural presumption and acquired luxuriance of his character, he conducted himself in a manner that, to any thing short of the partiality of Sir Hugh, would have rendered him insupportably offensive: but Sir Hugh had so long cherished a reverence for what he had himself ordered with regard to his studies, and what he implicitly credited of his attainments, that it was more easy to him to doubt his senses, than to suppose so accomplished a scholar could do any thing but what was right.

‘Your horses are worth nothing, sir,’ cried he, in entering; ‘I never rode so unpleasant a beast. I don’t know who has the care of your stud; but whoever it is, he deserves to be hanged.’

Sir Hugh could not refuse, either to his justice or his kindness, to vindicate his faithful Jacob; and for his horses he made as many excuses, as if every one had been a human creature, whom he was recommending to his mercy, with a fear they were unworthy of his favour.

Not a word was said more, except what Miss Margland, from time to time, extorted, by begging questions, in praise of her tea, till Lynmere, violently ringing the bell, called out to order a fire.

Every body was surprised at this liberty, without any previous demand of permission from the baronet, or any inquiry into the feelings of the rest of the company; and Sir Hugh, in a low voice, said to Eugenia, ‘I am a little afraid poor Mary will be rather out of humour to have the grate to polish again tomorrow in the case my nephew should not like to have another fire then; which, I suppose, if the weather continues so hot, may very likely, not be agreeable to him.’

Another pause now ensued; Dr. Marchmont, who, of the whole party, was alone, at this time, capable of leading to a general conversation, was separately occupied by watching Camilla; while himself, as usual, was curiously and unremittingly examined by Dr. Orkborne, in whom so much attention to a young lady raised many private doubts of the justice of his scholastic fame; which soon, by what he observed of his civility even to Miss Margland, were confirmed nearly to scepticism.

Mary, now, entering with a coal scuttle and a candle, Lynmere, with much displeasure, called out, ‘Bring wood; I hate coals.’

Mary, as much displeased, and nearly as much humoured as himself, answered that nothing but coals were ever burnt in that grate.

‘Take it all away, then, and bid my man send me my pelisse. That I made to cross the Alps in.’

‘I am very sorry, indeed, nephew,’ said Sir Hugh, ‘that we were not better prepared for your being so chilly, owing to the weather being set in so sultry, that we none of us much thought of having a fire; and, indeed, in my young time, we were never allowed thinking of such things before Michaelmas-day; which I suppose is quite behind-hand now. Pray, nephew, if it is not too much trouble to you, what’s the day for lighting fires in foreign parts?’

‘There’s no rule of that sort, now, sir, in modern philosophy; that kind of thing’s completely out; entirely exploded, I give you my word.’

‘Well, every thing’s new, Lord help me, since I was born! But I pray, nephew, if I may ask, without tiring you too much, on account of my ignorance, have they fires in summer as well as winter there?’

‘Do you imagine there are grates and fires on the Continent, sir, the same as in England? ha! ha!’

Sir Hugh was discountenanced from any further inquiry.

Another silence ensued, broken again by a vehement ringing of the bell.

When the servant appeared, ‘What have you got,’ cried Lynmere, ‘that you can bring me to eat?’

‘Eat, nephew! why you would not eat before supper, when here’s nobody done tea? not that I’d have you baulk your appetite, which, to be sure, ought to be the best judge.’

The youth ordered some oysters.

There were none in the house.

He desired a barrel might immediately be procured; he could eat nothing else.

Still Edgar, though frequent opportunities occurred, had no fortitude to address Camilla, and no spirits to speak. To her, however, his dejection was a revival; she read in it her power, and hoped her present plan would finally confirm it.

A servant now came in, announcing a person who had brought two letters, one for Sir Hugh, the other for Miss Camilla, but who said he would deliver them himself. The baronet desired he might be admitted.

Several minutes passed, and he did not appear. The wonder of Sir Hugh was awakened for his letter; but Camilla, dreading a billet from Sir Sedley, was in no haste.

Lynmere, however, glad of an opportunity to issue orders, or make disturbance, furiously rang the bell, saying: ‘Where are these letters?’

‘Jacob,’ said the baronet, ‘my nephew don’t mean the slowness to be any fault of yours, it being what you can’t help; only tell the person that brought us our letters, we should be glad to look at them, not knowing who they may be from.’

‘Why he seems but an odd sort of fish, sir; I can’t much make him out, he’s been begging some flour to put in his hair; he’ll make himself so spruce, he says, we sha’n’t know him again; I can’t much think he’s a gentleman.’

He then, however, added he had made a mistake, as there was no letter for his master, but one for Miss Camilla, and the other for Miss Margland.

‘For me?’ exclaimed Miss Margland, breaking forth from a scornful silence, during which her under lip had been busy to express her contempt of the curiosity excited upon this subject. ‘Why how dare they not tell me it was for me? it may be from somebody of consequence, about something of importance, and here’s half a day lost before I can see it!’

She then rose to go in search of it herself, but opened the door upon Mr. Dubster.

A ghost, could she have persuaded herself she had seen one, could not more have astonished, though it would more dismayed her. She drew haughtily back, saying: ‘Is there nobody else come?’

The servant answered in the negative, and she retreated to her chair.

Camilla alone was not perplext by this sight; she had, already, from the description, suggested whom she might expect, according to the intimation given by the ever mischievous Lionel.

Miss Margland, concluding he would turn out to be some broken tradesman, prepared herself to expect that the letter was a petition, and watched for an opportunity to steal out of the room.

Mr. Dubster made two or three low bows, while he had his hand upon the door, and two or three more when he had shut it. He then cast his eyes round the room, and espying Camilla, with a leering sort of smile, said: ‘O, you’re there, ma’am! I should find you out in a hundred. I’ve got a letter for you, ma’am, and another for the gentlewoman I took for your mamma; and I was not much out in my guess, for there’s no great difference, as one may say, between a mamma and a governess; only the mother’s the more natural, like.’

He then presented her a letter, which she hastily put up, not daring to venture at a public perusal, lest it might contain not merely something ludicrous concerning Mr. Dubster, to which she was wholly indifferent, but allusions to Sir Sedley Clarendel, which, in the actual situation of things, might be fatally unseasonable.

‘And now,’ said Mr. Dubster, ‘I must give up my t’other letter, asking the gentlewoman’s pardon for not giving it before; only I was willing to give the young lady her&rsqu............