makes!' exclaimed Mrs Mowbray. Adeline had observed nothing but the sigh; and on that she did not choose to make any comment.

The next day Mrs Mowbray, having learned Glenmurray's address, sent him a card for a party at her lodgings. Nothing but Glenmurray's delight could exceed his astonishment at this invitation. He had observed Mrs Mowbray and Adeline, even before Adeline had observed him; and, as he gazed upon the fascinating Adeline, he had sighed to think that she too would be taught to avoid the dangerous and disreputable acquaintance of Glenmurray. To him, therefore, this mark of attention was a source both of consolation and joy. But, being well convinced that it was owing to her ignorance of the usual customs and opinions of those with whom she associated, he was too generous to accept the invitation, as he knew that his presence at a rout at Bath would cause general dismay, and expose the mistress to disagreeable remarks at least: but he endeavoured to make himself amends for his self-denial, by asking leave to wait on them when they were alone.

CHAPTER V

A day or two after, as Adeline was leaning on the arm of a young lady, Glenmurray passed them, and to his respectful bow she returned a most cordial salutation. 'Gracious me! my dear,' said her companion, 'do you know who that man is?'

'Certainly:—it is Mr Glenmurray.'

'And do you speak to him?'

'Yes:—why should I not?'

'Dear me! Why, I am sure! Why—don't you know what he is?'

'Yes, a celebrated writer, and a man of genius.'

'Oh, that may be, Miss Mowbray: but they say one should not notice him, because he is—'

'He is what?' said Adeline eagerly.

'I do not exactly know what; but I believe it is a French spy, or a Jesuit.'

'Indeed?' replied Adeline laughing. 'But I am used to have better evidence against a person than a they say before I neglect an acknowledged acquaintance: therefore, with your leave, I shall turn back and talk a little to poor Mr Glenmurray.'

It so happened that poor Mr Glenmurray heard every word of this conversation; for he had turned round and followed Adeline and her fair companion, to present to the former the glove which she had dropped; and as they were prevented from proceeding by the crowd on the parade, which was assembled to see some unusual sight, he, being immediately behind them, could distinguish all that passed; so that Adeline turned round to go in search of him before the blush of grateful admiration for her kindness had left his cheek.

'Then she seeks me because I am shunned by others!' said Glenmurray to himself. In a moment the world to him seemed to contain only two beings, Adeline Mowbray and Frederic Glenmurray; and that Adeline, starting and blushing with joyful surprise at seeing him so near her, was then coming in search of him!—of him, the neglected Glenmurray! Scarcely could he refrain catching the lovely and ungloved hand next him to his heart; but he contented himself with keeping the glove that he was before so eager to restore, and in a moment it was lodged in his bosom.

Nor could 'I can't think what I have done with my glove,' which every now and then escaped Adeline, prevail on him to own that he had found it. At last, indeed, it became unnecessary; for Adeline, as she glanced her eye towards Glenmurray, discovered it in the hiding-place: but, as delicacy forbade her to declare the discovery which she had made, he was suffered to retain his prize; though a deep and sudden blush which overspread his cheek, and a sudden pause which she made in her conversation, convinced Glenmurray that she had detected his secret. Perhaps he was not sorry—nor Adeline; but certain it is that Adeline was for the remainder of the morning more lost in reverie than ever her mother had been; and that from that day every one, but Adeline and Glenmurray, saw that they were mutually enamoured.

Glenmurray was the first of the two lovers to perceive that they were so; and he made the discovery with a mixture of pain and pleasure. For what could be the result of such an attachment? He was firmly resolved never to marry; and it was very unlikely that Adeline, though she had often expressed to him her approbation of his writings and opinions, should be willing to sacrifice everything to love, and become his mistress. But a circumstance took place which completely removed his doubts on this subject.

Several weeks had elapsed since the first arrival of the Mowbrays at Bath, and in that time almost all their acquaintances had left them one by one; but neither Mrs Mowbray nor Adeline had paid much attention to this circumstance. Mrs Mowbray's habits of abstraction, as usual, made her regardless of common occurrences; and to these were added the more delightful reverie occasioned by the attentions of a very handsome and insinuating man, and the influence of a growing passion. Mrs Mowbray, as we have before observed, married from duty, not inclination; and to the passion of love she had remained a total stranger, till she became acquainted at Bath with Sir Patrick O'Carrol. Yes; Mrs Mowbray was in love for the first time when she was approaching her fortieth year! and a woman is never so likely to be the fool of love, as when it assails her late in life, especially if a lover be as great a novelty to her as the passion itself. Though not, alas! restored to a second youth, the tender victim certainly enjoys a second childhood, and exhibits but too openly all the little tricks and minaudieres of a love-sick girl, without the youthful appearance that in a degree excuses them. This was the case with Mrs Mowbray; and while, regardless of her daughter's interest and happiness, she was lost in the pleasing hopes of marrying the agreeable baronet, no wonder the cold neglect of her Bath associates was not seen by her.

Adeline, engrossed also by the pleasing reveries of a first love, was as unconscious of it as herself. Indeed she thought of nothing but love and Glenmurray; else, she could not have failed to see, that, while Sir Patrick's attentions and flatteries were addressed to her mother, his ardent looks and passionate sighs were all directed to herself.

Sir Patrick O'Carrol was a young Irishman, of an old family but an encumbered estate; and it was his wish to set his estate free by marrying a rich wife, and one as little disagreeable as possible. With this view he came to Bath; and in Mrs Mowbray he not only beheld a woman of large independent fortune, but possessed of great personal beauty, and young enough to be attractive. Still, though much pleased with the wealth and appearance of the mother, he soon became enamoured of the daughter's person; and had he not gone so far in his addresses to Mrs Mowbray as to make it impossible she should willingly transfer him to Adeline, and give her a fortune at all adequate to his wants, he would have endeavoured honourably to gain her affections, and entered the lists against the favoured Glenmurray.

But, as he wanted the mother's wealth, he resolved to pursue his advantage with her, and trust to some future chance for giving him possession of the daughter. In his dealings with men, Sir Patrick was a man of honour; in his dealings with women, completely the reverse: he considered them as a race of subordinate beings, and that if, like horses, they were well lodged, fed, and kept clean, they had no right to complain.

Constantly therefore did he besiege Mrs. Mowbray with his conversation, and Adeline with his eyes; and the very libertine gaze with which he often beheld her, gave a pang to Glenmurray which was but too soon painfully increased.

Sir Patrick was the only man of fashion who did not object to visit at Mrs. Mowbray's on account of her intimacy with Glenmurray; but he had his own private reasons for going thither, and continued to visit at Mrs Mowbray's though Glenmurray was