parted on the steps." She paused, and then added, her eyes flashing fire, "Jane, Edward Erskine preferred me once, and in spite of your arts, he shall prefer me again. Remember, miss, the fate of lady Euphrasia."
Jane replied, good naturedly, "I do remember her; but if her proud and artful character suits me, the poverty and helplessness of my condition bears a striking resemblance to the forlorn Amanda's. I trust, however, that my fate will resemble neither of your heroines, for you cannot expect me, on account of the honour of being your rival, to be dashed from a precipice, to point the moral of your story; and I am very certain of not marrying a lord."
"Yes, for there is no lord in this vulgar country to marry; but, with all your pretence of modesty, you aspire to the highest station within your reach."
Jane made no reply, and Elvira poured out her spleen in invectives, which neither abated her own ill humour, nor disturbed her cousin's equanimity. She was determined to compass her purposes, and in order to do so, she imparted her conjectures to her mother, who had become as faithful, as she was a powerful auxiliary.
In the evening they were all assembled in the parlour. Edward Erskine entered, and his entrance produced a visible sensation in every member of the little circle. Mrs. Wilson dropped half a needle full of stitches on her knitting work, and gave it to Jane to take them
