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And Ellen-oh! Ellen was young, too, and to the young, novelty is ever charming, and pleasure alluring. She did not drain the cup with the avidity of Augusta, but she tasted, and the taste exhilarated. She liked to join the fair and gallant in the graceful dance; to her the opera was a pleasure, for the harmony of her soul found an echo in fine music. The theatres, too, had a deep charm for her poetical mind.

But Ellen, in the enjoyment of these things, never forgot either herself or others. She was always down to make her uncle's breakfast, always preferred those amusements which he could share, always walked with him in preference to riding with a gay party, always promoted poor Annie's sharing the pleasure of the hour, and several times remained at home to hear a chapter of “ Rollin,” and to nurse Miss Tibby when she was unwell. Mr. Lindsay rejoiced to see that the perpetual variety of scene had a salutary effect on Ellen's health. At first, she seemed to seek amusement in order to fly from thought, but now she really

appeared to enjoy it for its own sake. Perhaps, if she had felt a preference for Julian, which, unreturned, would have saddened her gentle spirit, now that she saw him so frivolous, so idle, so rain, so careless of every thing but shew and dissipation, she felt ashamed to let her cheek grow pale, and her heart sad, for such a trifler. Be that as it may, London, which steals the bloom from so many cheeks, restored hers. As she was not so lavish of her presence as her sister was, so did people begin to value it more.

Among the many, she sometimes chanced to meet some who could appreciate her. And there were already those who preferred the white robe woren in a native loom, and the simple wreath of wild roses, heath, or blue bells wound round the golden hair and Madonna brow of Ellen, to all the complicated novelties and Frenchifications of Augusta, her Parisian brilliancy of dress, and coquettish agacerie of manner.

As for Miss Tibby, she fortunately found several old Scotch contemporaries with whom

she could take tea, play cribbage or dominoes, and talk of Donald of the brae; and often before the family carriage bore its gay young burthen to a fashionable dinner party, it carried Miss Tibby, and sometimes the tearful and unwilling Annie, to a Scotch tea-table.

Mr. Grunter, whose chief ambition was to be thought a savant, since he had discovered that with his tailor and modest expenditure he could not shine as an élégant, spent his mornings at bookstalls and the British Museum, made acquaintance with some old threadbare authors, got himself elected member of a literary club, sported his black wig, blue coat, and showy leg in Regent Street, and daily returned from a protracted luncheon at a pastrycook's, on turtle soup and oyster patties, to an excellent dinner with Mr. Lindsay, who frequently staid at home out of respect to his ci-devant usher.

The kind old man then made it a point of duty to listen to the chapter of Rollin—now, alas! shunned by the gay, for gayer amusements; and never, even to please Ellen, left

Grunter alone, in a delightful arm-chair by a blazing fire, without a thousand apologies, and a good supply of brandy, sugar, and hot water ; while, whenever he could do so, he contrived that old Grunter should display his quaint figure at opera, concert, play, or secondrate soirées, but to exclusive private balls and parties he did not dare to carry him, nor did Grunter care to go, for there he could not play the lion at his ease.

Of all the Brighton party, Screech and the spaniels alone seemed to regret the change. Screech, his temper soured by London noise and uproar, was frequently obliged to be banished from the drawing-room; his attacks upon fops and fashionables, who, if used to be bit, were not used to such a bite as his, and upon ladies who had always hysterics and fainting fits at hand, made it impossible to tolerate him in their presence-particularly as, whatever lions were present, he would outtalk them all, and, like other loud talkers, could bear no voice but his own. As for Fatima and her two fat daughters, the London

fogs affected their spirits and increased their wheezing, and they now seldom moved from the rug, or woke from their sleep, even to snarl or to bark.

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