poor
earnest soul, that the same form of religion which had captivated a
disappointed girl of twenty, might not be the most attractive one
for a jovial old man of sixty.

Argemone, who a fortnight before would have chimed in with all her
mother's lamentations, now felt a little nettled and jealous. She
could not bear to hear Lancelot classed with the colonel.

'Indeed,' she said, 'if amusement is bad for my father, he is not
likely to get much of it during Lord Vieuxbois's stay. But, of
course, mamma, you will do as you please.'

'Of course I shall, my dear,' answered the good lady, in a tragedy-
queen tone. 'I shall only take the liberty of adding, that it is
very painful to me to find you adding to the anxiety which your
unfortunate opinions give me, by throwing every possible obstacle in
the way of my plans for your good.'

Argemone burst into proud tears (she often did so after a
conversation with her mother). 'Plans for my good!'--And an
unworthy suspicion about her mother crossed her mind, and was
peremptorily expelled again. What turn the conversation would have
taken next, I know not, but at that moment Honoria and her mother
uttered a fearful shriek, as their side of the carriage jolted half-
way up the bank, and stuck still in that pleasant position.

The squire awoke, and the ladies simultaneously clapped their hands
to their ears, knowing what was coming. He thrust his head out of
the window, and discharged a broadside of at least ten pounds' worth
of oaths (Bow Street valuation) at the servants, who were examining
the broken wheel, with a side volley or two at Mrs. Lavington for
being frightened. He often treated her and Honoria to that style of
oratory. At Argemone he had never sworn but once since she left the
nursery, and was so frightened at the consequences, that he took
care never to do it again.

But there they were fast, with a broken wheel, plunging horses, and
a drunken coachman. Luckily for them, the colonel and Lancelot were
following close behind, and came to their assistance.

The colonel, as usual, solved the problem.

'Your dog-cart will carry four, Smith?'

'It will.'

'Then let the ladies get in, and Mr. Lavington drive them home.'

'What?' said the squire, 'with both my hands red-hot with the gout?
You must drive three of us, colonel, and one of us must walk.'

'I will walk,' said Argemone, in her determined way.

Mrs. Lavington began s