he trampling of horses and the sound of wheels were heard. The
servants, who had already arrived, drew up in the hall to receive their
master and mistress, with an importance and EMPRESSEMENT which to Lucy,
who had never been accustomed to society, or witnessed what is called the
manners of the great, had something alarming. Mac-Morlan went to the door
to receive the master and mistress of the family, and in a few moments
they were in the drawing-room.

Mannering, who had travelled as usual on horseback, entered with his
daughter hanging upon his arm. She was of the middle size, or rather
less, but formed with much elegance; piercing dark eyes, and jet-black
hair of great length, corresponded with the vivacity and intelligence of
features in which were blended a little haughtiness, and a little
bashfulness, a great deal of shrewdness, and some power of humorous
sarcasm. 'I shall not like her,' was the result of Lucy Bertram's first
glance; 'and yet; I rather think I shall,' was the thought excited by the
second.

Miss Mannering was furred and mantled up to the throat against the
severity of the weather; the Colonel in his military great-coat. He bowed
to Mrs. Mac-Morlan, whom his daughter also acknowledged with a
fashionable courtesy, not dropped so low as at all to incommode her
person. The Colonel then led his daughter up to Miss Bertram, and, taking
the hand of the latter, with an air of great kindness and almost paternal
affection, he said, 'Julia, this is the young lady whom I hope our good
friends have prevailed on to honour our house with a long visit. I shall
be much gratified indeed if you can render Woodbourne as pleasant to Miss
Bertram as Ellangowan was to me when I first came as a wanderer into this
country.'

The young lady courtesied acquiescence, and took her new friend's hand.
Mannering now turned his eye upon the Dominie, who had made bows since
his entrance into the room, sprawling out his leg, and bending his back
like an automaton, which continues to repeat the same movement until the
motion is stopt by the artist. 'My good friend, Mr. Sampson,' said
Mannering, introducing him to his daughter, and darting at the same time
a reproving glance at the damsel, notwithstanding he had himself some
disposition to join her too obvious inclination to risibility; 'this
gentleman, Julia, is to put my books in order when they arrive, and I
expect to derive great advantage from his extensive learning.'

'I am