miums of Mrs. Andrew.
Now this lady and her husband were in obverse relative positions. The
brewer had no will but his Harriet's. His esteem for her combined the
constitutional feelings of an insignificantly-built little man for a
majestic woman, and those of a worthy soul for the wife of his bosom.
Possessing, or possessed by her, the good brewer was perfectly happy.
She, it might be thought, under these circumstances, would not have
minded much his hearing what he might hear. It happened, however, that
she was as jealous of the winds of Lymport as the Major himself;
as vigilant in debarring them from access to the brewery as now the
Countess could have been. We are not dissecting human nature suffice
it, therefore, from a mere glance at the surface, to say, that just as
moneyed men are careful of their coin, women who have all the advantages
in a conjunction, are miserly in keeping them, and shudder to think that
one thing remains hidden, which the world they move in might put down
pityingly in favour of their spouse, even though to the little man
'twere naught. She assumed that a revelation would diminish her moral
stature; and certainly it would not increase that of her husband. So
no good could come of it. Besides, Andrew knew, his whole conduct was a
tacit admission, that she had condescended in giving him her hand. The
features of their union might not be changed altogether by a revelation,
but it would be a shock to her.

Consequently, Harriet tenderly rebuked Caroline, for her outcry at
the breakfast-table; and Caroline, the elder sister, who had not since
marriage grown in so free an air, excused herself humbly, and the two
were weeping when the Countess joined them and related what she had just
undergone.

Hearing of Caroline's misdemeanour, however, Louisa's eyes rolled
aloft in a paroxysm of tribulation. It was nothing to Caroline; it was
comparatively nothing to Harriet; but the Count knew not Louisa had a
father: believed that her parents had long ago been wiped out. And the
Count was by nature inquisitive: and if he once cherished a suspicion
he was restless; he was pointed in his inquiries: he was pertinacious in
following out a clue: there never would be peace with him! And then, as
they were secure in their privacy, Louisa cried aloud for her father,
her beloved father! Harriet wept silently. Caroline alone expressed
regret that she had not set eyes on him from the day she became a wife.

'How coul