about to make a water excursion."

"'Sdeath, sir, with all my heart," cried the good-natured knight; "I
love to see the dear creatures amuse themselves; for, to tell you the
truth, Morton," said he, sinking his voice into a knowing whisper, "the
best thing to keep them from playing the devil is to encourage them in
playing the fool!" and, laughing heartily at the jest he had purloined
from one of his favourite writers, Sir William led the way to the
water-party.

CHAPTER XIV.

BEING A CHAPTER OF TRIFLES.

THE Abby disappeared! It is astonishing how well everybody bore his
departure. My mother scarcely spoke on the subject; but along the
irrefragable smoothness of her temperament all things glided without
resistance to their course, or trace where they had been. Gerald, who,
occupied solely in rural sports or rustic loves, seldom mingled in the
festivities of the house, was equally silent on the subject. Aubrey
looked grieved for a day or two: but his countenance soon settled into
its customary and grave softness; and, in less than a week, so little
was the Abbe spoken of or missed that you would scarcely have imagined
Julian Montreuil had ever passed the threshold of our gate. The oblivion
of one buried is nothing to the oblivion of one disgraced.

Meanwhile I pressed for my departure; and, at length, the day was
finally fixed. Ever since that conversation with Lady Hasselton
which has been set before the reader, that lady had lingered and
lingered--though the house was growing empty, and London, in all
seasons, was, according to her, better than the country in any--until
the Count Devereux, with that amiable modesty which so especially
characterized him, began to suspect that the Lady Hasselton lingered on
his account. This emboldened that bashful personage to press in earnest
for the fourth seat in the beauty's carriage, which we have seen in
the conversation before mentioned had been previously offered to him
in jest. After a great affectation of horror at the proposal, the Lady
Hasselton yielded. She had always, she said, been dotingly fond of
children, and it was certainly very shocking to send such a chit as the
little Count to London by himself.

My uncle was charmed with the arrangement. The beauty was a peculiar
favourite of his, and, in fact, he was sometimes pleased to hint that he
had private reasons for love towards her mother's daughter. Of the truth
of this insinuation I am, however, more than