iece, a young lady of twenty, to lend an air of grace and warmth to
his home.

She was a Caroline, and as he had never taken a liking to a Caroline,
he classed her in the tribe of Carolines. To a Kathleen, an Eveleen, a
Nora, or a Bessy, or an Alicia, he would have bowed more cordially on
his introduction to her, for these were names with portraits and vistas
beyond, that shook leaves of recollection of the happiest of life--the
sweet things dreamed undesiringly in opening youth. A Caroline awakened
no soft association of fancies, no mysterious heaven and earth. The
others had variously tinted skies above them; their features wooed the
dream, led it on as the wooded glen leads the eye till we are deep in
richness. Nor would he have throbbed had one of any of his favourite
names appeared in the place of Caroline Adister. They had not moved
his heart, they had only stirred the sources of wonder. An Eveleen had
carried him farthest to imagine the splendours of an Adiante, and the
announcement of the coming of an Eveleen would perchance have sped a
little wild fire, to which what the world calls curiosity is frozenly
akin, through his veins.

Mr. Adister had spoken of his niece Caroline. A lacquey, receiving
orders from his master, mentioned Miss Adister. There was but one Miss
Adister for Patrick. Against reason, he was raised to anticipate the
possible beholding of her, and Caroline's entrance into the drawing-room
brought him to the ground. Disappointment is a poor term for the descent
from an immoderate height, but the acknowledgment that we have shot up
irrationally reconciles even unphilosophical youth to the necessity of
the fall, though we must continue sensible of a shock. She was the Miss
Adister; and how, and why? No one else accompanied them on their march
to the dinner-table. Patrick pursued his double task of hunting his
thousand speculations and conversing fluently, so that it is not
astonishing if, when he retired to his room, the impression made on him
by this young Caroline was inefficient to distinguish her from the horde
of her baptismal sisters. And she had a pleasant face: he was able to
see that, and some individuality in the look of it, the next morning;
and then he remembered the niceness of her manners. He supposed her to
have been educated where the interfusion of a natural liveliness with a
veiling retenue gives the title of lady. She had enjoyed the advantage
of having an estimable French lady