an to feel
that he was eclipsed on his own theatre--that George, if not _in the
fashion_, was yet more _the fashion_ than he.

Following the proud, happy glance of his brother's eye, a quarter of an
hour later, Henry saw Miss Harcourt entering the room in an opposite
direction from that in which she had lately come. If this was a _ruse_ on
her part to veil the connection between their movements, it was a
fruitless caution. None who had seen her before could fail now to
observe the softened character of her beauty, and those who saw

"A thousand blushing apparitions start
Into her face"--

whenever his eyes rested on her, could scarcely doubt his influence over
her.

The next morning George Manning brought Miss Harcourt to visit his
mother; and Mrs. Manning rose greatly in her son Henry's estimation,
when he saw the affectionate deference evinced towards her by the proud
beauty.

"How strange my manner must have seemed to you sometimes!" said Miss
Harcourt to Henry one day. "I was engaged to George long before I met
you in Europe; and though I never had courage to mention him to you, I
wondered a little that you never spoke of him. I never doubted for a
moment that you were acquainted with our engagement."

"I do not even yet understand where and how you and George met."

"We met at home--my father was Governor of the Territory--State now--in
which your uncle lives: our homes were very near each other's, and so we
met almost daily while I was still a child. We have had all sorts of
adventures together; for George was a great favorite with my father, and
I was permitted to go with him anywhere. He has saved my life
twice--once at the imminent peril of his own, when with the wilfulness
of a spoiled child I would ride a horse which he told me I could not
manage. Oh! you know not half his nobleness," and tears moistened the
bright eyes of the happy girl.

Henry Manning was touched through all his conventionalism, yet the
moment after he said, "George is a fine fellow, certainly; but I wish
you could persuade him to dress a little more like other people."

"I would not if I could," exclaimed Emma Harcourt, while the blood
rushed to her temples; "fashions and all such conventional regulations
are made for those who have no innate perception of the right, the
noble, the beautiful--not for such as he--he is above fashion."

What Emma would not ask, she yet did not fail to recognize as another
proof of correc