in the mirror before me, with the glossy dark hair, slightly and not ungracefully disordered by the breezy ride, the rich brown complexion glowing with exercise, and the black eyes sparkling with unwonted brilliance. On perceiving me, she turned round exclaiming, with a laugh that savoured more of malice than of mirth,—
"Why Helen! what have you been doing so long?—I came to tell you my good fortune," she continued, regardless of Rachel's presence. "Lord Lowborough has proposed, and I have been graciously pleased to accept him. Don't you envy me, dear?"
"No, love," said I—"or him either," I mentally added. "And do you like him Annabella?"
"Like him! yes, to be sure—over head and ears in love!"
"Well, I hope you'll make him a good wife."
"Thank you, my dear! And what besides do you hope?"
