lly dined at eight o'clock; and, nodding to his sister as she
quitted the room, returned to his book, as if nothing had occurred to
disturb him from it.

In ten minutes after her entrance into Courtland house Lady Juliana had
made greater advances in _religion_ and _philosophy_ than she had done
in the whole nineteen years of her life; for she not only perceived
that "out of evil cometh good," but was perfectly ready to admit that
"all is for the best," and that "whatever is, is right."

"How lucky is it for me," exclaimed she to herself, as she surveyed the
splendid suite of apartments that were destined for her
accommodation--"how very fortunate that things have turned out as they
have done; that Lady Lindore should have run off, and that the General's
marriage should have taken place just at the time of poor papa's death
"--and, in short, Lady Juliana set no bounds to her self-gratulations on
the happy turn of affairs which had brought about this change in her
situation.

To a heart not wholly devoid of feeling, and a mind capable of anything
like reflection, the desolate appearance of this magnificent mansion
would have excited emotions of a very different nature. The apartments
of the late Earl, with their wide extended doors and windows, sheeted
furniture, and air of dreary order, exhibited that waste and chilling
aspect which marks the chambers of death; and even Lady Juliana
shuddered, she knew not why, as she passed through them.

Those of Lady Lindore presented a picture not less striking, could her
thoughtless successor have profited by the lesson they offered. Here was
all that the most capricious fancy, the most boundless extravagance, the
most refined luxury, could wish for or suggest. The bedchamber,
dressing-room, and boudoir were each fitted up in a style that seemed
rather suited for the pleasures of an Eastern sultana or Grecian
courtesan than for the domestic comfort of a British matron.

"I wonder how Lady Lindore could find in her heart to leave this
delicious boudoir," observed Lady Juliana to the old housekeeper.

"I rather wonder, my Lady, how she could find in her heart to leave
these pretty babies," returned the good woman, as a little boy came
running into the room, calling, "Mamma, mamma!" Lady Juliana had
nothing to say to children beyond a "How d'ye do, love?" and the child,
after regarding her for a moment, with a look of disappointment, ran
away back to his nursery.

When Lady Ju