I walked home with Miss Matilda, but he did not join us. Matilda was now sadly at a loss for amusement, and wofully in want of a companion. Her brothers at school—her sister married and gone—she too young to be admitted into society, for which, from Rosalie's example, she was in some degree beginning to acquire a taste—a taste at least for, the company of certain classes of gentlemen—at this dull time of the year—no hunting going on. . .no shooting even. . .for, though she might not join in that, it was something to see her father or the gamekeeper go out with the dogs, and to talk with them, on their return, about the different birds they had bagged. Now also she was denied the solace which the companionship of the coachman, groom, horses, greyhounds and pointers might have afforded; for her mother, having notwithstanding the disadvantages of a country life so satisfactorily disposed of her elder daughter, the pride of her heart, had begun seriously to turn her attention to the younger, and being truly alarmed at the roughness of her manners, and thinking it high time to work a reform, had been roused at length to exert her authority, and prohibited entirely, the yards, stables, kennels,
