wrinkling his front over it, in the window of his dressing-room. Cleveland, immediately on perceiving Eustace, beckoned him to come to him; a sign which that eager young man with alacrity obeyed. The conference lasted long; nor did the castle party meet again till all were assembled at dinner, with the addition of Constance's most loved friend, the Marchioness, who had come to do honour to the birth-day fête, which was to be held the next day. CHAPTER XXIV. A CHANGE. Her heavenly form Angelic, but more soft and feminine. Of gesture, or least action, overaw'd His malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd His fierceness. MILTON. THE presence of Lady Clanellan was a real comfort to the apprehensions of Constance, who, from the manner both of Lord Cleveland and her father, added to De Vere's late insinuations, and even her aunt's high principled representations, had begun to conceive ominous portents from the visit of the Earl. It is most certain that during the hour which had passed in shewing him the castle, the gardens, and, (as Lord Mowbray insisted upon it) the dairy house, with its beautiful precinct, he had laid himself out to act the character of the most sincere, as well as respectful admirer that ever youthful lady entertained in hall or bower. Every one of the few sentences she uttered, seemed only spoken to be echoed by his own sentiments; and he even moralized very prettily in the bee-garden, upon the uselessness of immoderate wealth, and its inefficacy to secure happiness; which, he admitted, was after all the only true object of ambition, and of course the only pursuit of a wise man. In short, to believe the Earl, he could have rested perfectly content, nay, would perhaps prefer a lot which confined him to the moderation of this little scene, to the indulgences of riches, and the pomp of power. Ambition itself sank to nothing in the comparison. But neither Lady Eleanor nor Constance were deceived;-though Lord Mowbray, who had learned from Eustace the nature of his errand to Lord Cleveland, smiled inwardly, and not without complacency, to think how love could change a man's innate disposition. He was by no means displeased therefore to believe that this little aberration from the earl's great passion (so near upon the point of being gratified,) was occasioned by a desire to connect himself where most Lord Mowbray wished him to be connected. Lady Eleanor and Constance, however, remembered the letter which De Vere had read to them but a few days before. Constance thought of the contrast with even disgust, and felt that surely pardonable anger, which a self-respecting young person must always feel when she thinks a man, for his own purposes, presumes he may trifle with her understanding. Such seemed evidently the conduct of Lord Cleveland in thus so suddenly playing the sentimentalist; nor would Constance, though pressed, in his most plausible strain, to agree with him in the soft notions which he continued to unfold, condescend even to give an opinion, but busied herself with pretended ittle cares about her favourite domain. In truth, his new character sat but awkwardly upon Lord Cleveland; and Constance was glad to hear from her aunt, a sort of reproach which she thought might be unbecoming in herself. Lady Eleanor was struck with the contradiction between Lord Cleveland's letter and his present opinions, and presuming upon her age, did not refrain from telling him so. At another time in ber life, she might have rallied him upon it with keenness, and even with wit; but the buoyancy of her spirit had long been broken, and she could only be roused to this sort of exertion, by a sense of his impropriety of conduct, and the necessity of repressing it. With some gravity, therefore, if not dignity of tone, she said, "Your lordship must really imagine us weak women, to be the poor, believing creatures the men sometimes represent us, when you practise upon us thus. Unfortunately we have been favoured with your real sentiments in your letter to my son. We there saw what the great Lord Cleveland thought of grandeur or moderation, excitement or placidity, town or country." The earl looked uneasy, if not disconcerted, at this reproach, in a presence where he most wished to be free from it. Eyeing Constance, therefore, with a humble and even tender air, he said, it seemed not a little hard that he should be concluded in a matter in which he felt so sincere, merely from a piece of badinage, in which no one could suppose him serious. In this, he was joined by Lord Mowbray, who saw the coldness of his daughter's looks with regret, and was by no means pleased with this check given by Lady Eleanor to a discourse, which, beginning in sentiment, might have ended in something still more tender. As it was, Lord Cleveland observed, that he was the more unfortunate, because (whether he might be believed or not, he presumed not to |