or nothing, but her new friend undertook to give her lessons,
in exchange for which she was to learn from Lucy the habit of walking,
and the art of riding, and the courage necessary to defy the season.
Mannering was careful to substitute for their amusement in the evening
such books as might convey some solid instruction with entertainment,
and, as he read aloud with great skill and taste, the winter nights
passed pleasantly away.

Society was quickly formed where there were so many inducements. Most of
the families of the neighbourhood visited Colonel Mannering, and he was
soon able to select from among them such as best suited his taste and
habits. Charles Hazlewood held a distinguished place in his favour, and
was a frequent visitor, not without the consent and approbation of his
parents; for there was no knowing, they thought, what assiduous attention
might produce, and the beautiful Miss Mannering, of high family, with an
Indian fortune, was a prize worth looking after. Dazzled with such a
prospect, they never considered the risk which had once been some object
of their apprehension, that his boyish and inconsiderate fancy might form
an attachment to the penniless Lucy Bertram, who had nothing on earth to
recommend her but a pretty face, good birth, and a most amiable
disposition. Mannering was more prudent. He considered himself acting as
Miss Bertram's guardian, and, while he did not think it incumbent upon
him altogether to check her intercourse with a young gentleman for whom,
excepting in wealth, she was a match in every respect, he laid it under
such insensible restraints as might prevent any engagement or
ECLAIRCISSEMENT taking place until the young man should have seen a
little more of life and of the world, and have attained that age when he
might be considered as entitled to judge for himself in the matter in
which his happiness was chiefly interested.

While these matters engaged the attention of the other members of the
Woodbourne family, Dominie Sampson was occupied, body and soul, in the
arrangement of the late bishop's library, which had been sent from
Liverpool by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty carts from the sea-port
at which it was landed. Sampson's joy at beholding the ponderous contents
of these chests arranged upon the floor of the large apartment, from
whence he was to transfer them to the shelves, baffles all description.
He grinned like an ogre, swung his arms like the sails of a wind