ance, you might have almost literally watched the fading of her rich cheek, and the pining away of her rounded and elastic form.
It was just in such a mood that she was buried, when her uncle knocked at her door for admittance: she hurried away her treasures, and hastened to admit and greet him. "I have come," said he, smiling, "to beg the pleasure of your company for an old friend who dines with us to-day.—But stay, Lucy, your hair is ill-arranged. Do not let me disturb so important an occupation as your toilette: dress yourself, my love, and join us."
Lucy turned, with a suppressed sigh, to the glass. The uncle lingered for a few moments, surveying her with mingled pride and doubt: he then slowly left the chamber.
Lucy soon afterwards descended to the drawing-room, and beheld, with a little surprise, (for she had not had sufficient curiosity to inquire the name of the guest,) the slender form and comely features of Lord Mauleverer. The Earl approached with the same grace which had, in his earlier youth, rendered him almost irresistible, but which now, from the contrast of years with manner, con-
