under the circumstances might account for. 'You
have often heard me mention Mr. Glastonbury,' he said, addressing
himself to Henrietta. 'Let me now have the pleasure of making you
acquainted. My oldest, my best friend, my second father; an admirable
artist, too, I can assure you. He is qualified to decide even upon your
skill. And when did you arrive, my dearest friend? and where have you
been? Our old haunts? Many sketches? What abbey have you explored, what
antique treasures have you discovered? I have such a fine addition for
your herbal! The Barbary cactus, just what you wanted; I found it in
my volume of Shelley; and beautifully dried, beautifully; it will quite
charm you. What do you think of this drawing? Is it not beautiful? quite
the character, is it not?' Ferdinand paused for lack of breath.

'I was just observing as you entered,' said Glastonbury, very quietly,
'to Miss------'

'I have several letters for you,' said Ferdinand, interrupting him, and
trembling from head to foot lest he might say Miss _Grandison_. 'Do
you know you are just the person I wanted to see? How fortunate that you
should just arrive! I was annoyed to find you were away. I cannot tell
you how much I was annoyed!'

'Your dear parents?' enquired Glastonbury.

'Are quite well,' said Ferdinand, 'perfectly well. They will be so
glad to see you, so very glad. They do so long to see you, my dearest
Glastonbury. You cannot imagine how they long to see you.'

'I shall find them within, think you?' enquired Glastonbury.

'Oh! they are not here,' said Ferdinand; 'they have not yet arrived.
I expect them every day. Every day I expect them. I have prepared
everything for them, everything. What a wonderful autumn it has been!'

And Glastonbury fell into the lure and talked about the weather, for he
was learned in the seasons, and prophesied by many circumstances a hard
winter. While he was thus conversing, Ferdinand extracted from Henrietta
that Glastonbury had not been in the gallery more than a very few
minutes; and he felt assured that nothing fatal had transpired. All
this time Ferdinand was reviewing his painful situation with desperate
rapidity and prescience. All that he aspired to now was that Henrietta
should quit Armine in as happy ignorance as she had arrived: as for
Glastonbury, Ferdinand cared not what he might suspect, or ultimately
discover. These were future evils that subsided into insignificance
compared with any discovery on