Anne was in the arm-chair, and Louisa was seated a little behind her; Mary was opposite, and a seat most conveniently vacant beside her; while the two younger girls were placed on a low ottoman in the middle. A rap at the door made them all start—Isabella afterwards confessed that she had peeped through the back parlour door as he went upstairs—and Mr. Glentworth made his appearance. He took all the young ladies completely by surprise—if he had turned five and thirty he did not look it; and Uncle Frank, instead of an odd-looking individual in a brown coat and wig, was a tall and handsome man, pale, and with a shade of melancholy, which only gave interest to his fine features.
Lady Anne could not but allow that, if years had passed lightly over herself, they had passed still more lightly over him, to say nothing of his being some few years younger. He was altered from the shy, silent young man who used to spend morning after morning with Mr. Granard in the library, to Lady Anne's equal displeasure and surprise—for a young cavalier would often have been an addition to her parties, and it was to her incomprehensible what amusement could be found in books or in her husband's society. The alteration was, however, one of improvement: his manner had the ease of one accustomed to make his own way in every kind of society, and his air was singularly distingué. Lady Anne's first idea was regret that she had wasted any care upon Mary's appear-
