mwood.

To which question Sandford replied, "Beautiful--she looks beautifully."

"She has got over her uneasiness, I suppose then?" said Mrs. Horton--not
dreaming that she was asking the questions before her new lover.

"Uneasy!" replied Sandford, "uneasy at any trial this world can send?
That would be highly unworthy of her."

"But sometimes women do fret at such things:" replied Mrs. Horton,
innocently.

Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner--"If she meant to ride, this delightful
day?"

While she was hesitating--

"There are different kinds of women," (said Sandford, directing his
discourse to Mrs. Horton;) "there is as much difference between some
women, as between good and evil spirits."

Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner again--If she took an airing?

She replied, "No."

"And beauty," continued Sandford, "when endowed upon spirits that are
evil, is a mark of their greater, their more extreme wickedness. Lucifer
was the most beautiful of all the angels in Paradise"--

"How do you know?" said Miss Milner.

"But the beauty of Lucifer," (continued Sandford, in perfect neglect and
contempt of her question,) "was an aggravation of his guilt; because it
shewed a double share of ingratitude to the Divine Creator of that
beauty."

"Now you talk of angels," said Miss Milner, "I wish I had wings; and I
should like to fly through the park this morning."

"You would be taken for an angel in good earnest," said Lord Elmwood.

Sandford was angry at this little compliment, and cried, "I should think
the serpent's skin would be much more characteristic."

"My Lord," cried she, "does not Mr. Sandford use me ill?" Vext with
other things, she felt herself extremely hurt at this, and made the
appeal almost in tears.

"Indeed, I think he does." And he looked at Sandford as if he was
displeased.

This was a triumph so agreeable to her, that she immediately pardoned
the offence; but the offender did not so easily pardon her.

"Good morning, ladies," said Lord Elmwood, rising to go away.

"My Lord," said Miss Woodley, "you promised Miss Milner to accompany her
one evening to the opera; this is opera night."

"Will you go, my Lord?" asked Miss Milner, in a voice so soft, that he
seemed as if he wished, but could not resist it.

"I am to dine at Mr. Fenton's to-day," he replied; "and if he and his
sister will go, and you will allow them part of your box, I will promise
to come."

This was a condition by no means acceptab