hateful
creature. One of her daily duties, and one for the performance of which
she had unfortunately ample opportunity, was the consolation of Fanny
under her troubles. Poor Fanny! how great an aggravation was this
to her other miseries! For a considerable time Lady Selma had known
nothing of the true cause of Fanny's gloom; for though the two cousins
were good friends, as far as Lady Selina was capable of admitting so
human a frailty as friendship, still Fanny could not bring herself to
make a confidante of her. Her kind, stupid, unpretending old aunt was a
much better person to talk to, even though she did arch her eyebrows,
and shake her head when Lord Ballindine's name was mentioned, and
assure her niece that though she had always liked him herself, he
could not be good for much, because Lord Kilcullen had said so. But
Fanny could not well dissemble; she was tormented by Lady Selina's
condolements, and recommendations of Gibbon, her encomiums on industry,
and anathemas against idleness; she was so often reminded that weeping
would not bring back her brother, nor inactive reflection make his fate
less certain, that at last she made her monitor understand that it was
about Lord Ballindine's fate that she was anxious, and that it was his
coming back which might be effected by weeping--or other measures.

Lady Selina was shocked by such feminine, girlish weakness, such want
of dignity and character, such forgetfulness, as she said to Fanny, of
what was due to her own position. Lady Selina was herself unmarried,
and not likely to marry; and why had she maintained her virgin state,
and foregone the blessings of love and matrimony? Because, as she often
said to herself, and occasionally said to Fanny, she would not step
down from the lofty pedestal on which it had pleased fortune and birth
to place her.

She learned, however, by degrees, to forgive, though she couldn't
approve, Fanny's weakness; she remembered that it was a very different
thing to be an earl's niece and an earl's daughter, and that the same
conduct could not be expected from Fanny Wyndham and Lady Selina Grey.

The two were sitting together, in one of the Grey Abbey drawing-rooms,
about the middle of April. Fanny had that morning again been talking
to her guardian on the subject nearest to her heart, and had nearly
distracted him by begging him to take steps to make Frank understand
that a renewal of his visits at Grey Abbey would not be ill received.