Matilda, to whom this lamentation was addressed. "He'll never come again; and I suspect you liked him after all. I hoped you would have taken him for your beau, and left dear Harry to me."
"Humph! my beau must be an Adonis indeed, Matilda, the admired of all beholders, if I am to be contented with him alone. I'm sorry to lose Hatfield, I confess: but the first decent man, or number of men that come to supply his place will be more than welcome. It's Sunday to-morrow—I do wonder how he'll look, and whether he'll be able to go through the service. Most likely he'll pretend he's got a cold and make Mr. Weston do it all."
"Not he!" exclaimed Matilda, somewhat, contemptuously. "Fool as he is, he's not so soft as that comes to."
Her sister was slightly offended; but the event proved Matilda was right. The disappointed lover performed his pastoral duties as usual. Rosalie, indeed, affirmed he looked very pale and dejected: he might be a little paler, but the difference, if any, was scarcely perceptible. As for his dejection, I certainly did not hear his laugh ringing from the vestry as usual, nor his voice loud in hilarious dis-
