impulse at a propitious instant.
Nay, who could tell what was best for him after all? Even Phoebe's
faithful acceptance of her on his word had undergone sundry severe
shocks, and she had rising doubts whether Lucy, such as she saw her,
could be what would make him happy.

If the secrets of every guest at a _fete_ were told, would any be found
unmixedly happy? Would there be no one devoid of cares of their own or
of other people's, or if exempt from these, undisturbed by the absence of
the right individual or by the presence of the wrong one, by mishaps of
deportment, difficulties of dress, or want of notice? Perhaps, after
all, it may be best to have some one abiding anxiety, strong enough to
destroy tedium, and exclude the pettier distresses, which are harder to
contend with, though less dignified; and most wholesome of all is it that
this should be an interest entirely external. So, after all, Phoebe's
enjoyment might hardly have been increased had her thoughts been more
free from Robin's troubles, when she came down dressed for her first
party, so like a lily of the valley in her delicate dress, that Owen
acknowledged that it justified her choice, and murmured something of 'in
vernal green and virgin white, her festal robes, arrayed.' Phoebe was
only distressed at what she thought the profanation of quoting from such
a source in compliment to her. Honora was gratified to find the lines in
his memory upon any terms. Poor dear Honor, in one case at least
believing all things, hoping all things!

Phoebe ought to have made the most of her compliment. It was all she
obtained in that line. Juliana herself could not have taken umbrage at
her success. Nobody imagined her come out, no one attempted to disturb
her from under Miss Charlecote's wing, and she kept close to her the
whole afternoon, sometimes sitting upon a haycock, sometimes walking in
the shrubbery, listening to the band, or looking at the archery, in
company with dignified clergyman, or elderly lady, astonished to meet
Honor Charlecote in so unwonted a scene. Owen Sandbrook was never far
off. He took them to eat ices, conducted them to good points of view,
found seats for them, and told them who every one was, with droll
comments or anecdotes which entertained them so much, that Phoebe almost
wished that Robin had not made her sensible of the grain of irreverence
that seasoned all Owen's most brilliant sallies.

They saw little of the others. Mr.