every one through her glass, that it all seemed very vulgar.

Emma's next partner was an officer, but she had several other solicitations which she was forced to refuse, as a very pretty girl, quite new, and evidently admired by Lord Osborne, was not likely to be neglected in a country assembly-room, and for the rest of the evening it was quite the fashion to call her "the pretty Miss Watson."

As it was a regulation in the ball-room that no other dance should be called after one o'clock, this finished her amusement; and at the summons of Mr. Edwards she was not at all dissatisfied to return home, although she professed to have spent a most delightful evening. She felt rather anxious to ascertain whether Mr. Edwards had lost or won at cards, and on entering the dining-room, where the supper-table was spread, she looked anxiously at his countenance, to read his features, and discover his state of mind. The pleasant conviction that fortune had favoured him was conveyed to her mind, when, on the subsidence of the frown which the sudden glare of candle-light occasioned, he presented a bland smile and self-satisfied aspect, pronounced the soup which, as Elizabeth had predicted, appeared to comfort them, to be extremely good, and joked with Emma about the hearts which he guessed she had conquered on this her first appearance in their country.

"Well, Mary," added he, turning to his daughter, and chucking her under the chin, "and who did you dance with? Who was your first partner?"

"Captain Hunter, sir," replied Mary, demurely, yet blushing a little.

"And who next?" pursued he.

"Mr. Edward Hunter, sir."

"And who is he?"

"Captain Hunter's cousin."

"Oh, aye—very well: who next?"

"Captain Scott, sir."

"Who is he—another cousin of Captain Hunter, eh?"

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