at all neglected. I was quite as much noticed as I would wish to be: there was no lack of kind words and kinder looks, no end of delicate attentions, too fine and subtle to be grasped by words, and, therefore, indescribable—but deeply felt at heart.
Ceremony was quickly dropped between us, Mr. Weston came as an expected guest, welome at all times, and never deranging the conomy of our household affairs. He even called me "Agnes;" the name had been timidly spoken at first, but, finding it gave no offence in any quarter, he seemed greatly to prefer that appellation to "Miss Grey," and so did I.
How tedious and gloomy were those days in which he did not come! and yet not miserable, for I had still the remembrance of the last visit and the hope of the next to cheer me. But when two or three days passed without my seeing him, I certainly felt very anxious—absurdly, unreasonably so, for, of course, he had his own business and the affairs of his parish to attend to: and I dreaded the close of the holidays, when my business also would begin, and I should be sometimes unable to see him, and sometimes. . .when my mother was in the
