urth--the darkened forms
of two persons distinctly seen in each window as they pass along the
room, betwixt the windows and the lights. Whom can Diana have got for a
companion?"--The passage of the shadows between the lights and the
casements was twice repeated, as if to satisfy me that my observation
served me truly; after which the lights were extinguished, and the
shades, of course, were seen no more.

Trifling as this circumstance was, it occupied my mind for a considerable
time. I did not allow myself to suppose that my friendship for Miss
Vernon had any directly selfish view; yet it is incredible the
displeasure I felt at the idea of her admitting any one to private
interviews, at a time, and in a place, where, for her own sake, I had
been at some trouble to show her that it was improper for me to meet with
her.

"Silly, romping, incorrigible girl!" said I to myself, "on whom all good
advice and delicacy are thrown away! I have been cheated by the
simplicity of her manner, which I suppose she can assume just as she
could a straw bonnet, were it the fashion, for the mere sake of
celebrity. I suppose, notwithstanding the excellence of her
understanding, the society of half a dozen of clowns to play at whisk and
swabbers would give her more pleasure than if Ariosto himself were to
awake from the dead."

This reflection came the more powerfully across my mind, because, having
mustered up courage to show to Diana my version of the first books of
Ariosto, I had requested her to invite Martha to a tea-party in the
library that evening, to which arrangement Miss Vernon had refused her
consent, alleging some apology which I thought frivolous at the time. I
had not long speculated on this disagreeable subject, when the
back garden-door opened, and the figures of Andrew and his
country-man--bending under his pack--crossed the moonlight alley,
and called my attention elsewhere.

I found Mr. Macready, as I expected, a tough, sagacious, long-headed
Scotchman, and a collector of news both from choice and profession. He
was able to give me a distinct account of what had passed in the House of
Commons and House of Lords on the affair of Morris, which, it appears,
had been made by both parties a touchstone to ascertain the temper of the
Parliament. It appeared also, that, as I had learned from Andrew, by
second hand, the ministry had proved too weak to support a story
involving the character of men of rank and importance, and