embroidery, while two fair sisters more remote occasionally burst into
melody as they tried the passages of a new air, which had been dedicated
to them in the manuscript of some devoted friend.

The duchess, one of the greatest heiresses of Britain, singularly
beautify and gifted with native grace, had married in her teens one of
the wealthiest and most powerful of our nobles, and scarcely order than
herself. Her husband was as distinguished for his appearance and his
manners as his bride, and those who speculate on race were interested in
watching the development of their progeny, who in form and color, and
voice, and manner, and mind, were a reproduction of their parents, who
seemed only the elder brother and sister of a gifted circle. The
daughters with one exception came first, and all met the same fate.
After seventeen years of a delicious home they were presented, and
immediately married; and all to personages of high consideration. After
the first conquest, this fate seemed as regular as the order of Nature.
Then came a son, who was now at Christchurch, and then several others,
some at school, and some scarcely out of the nursery. There was one
daughter unmarried, and she was to be presented next season. Though the
family likeness was still apparent in Lady Corisande, in general
expression she differed from her sisters. They were all alike with
their delicate aquiline noses, bright complexions, short upper lips, and
eyes of sunny light. The beauty of Lady Corisande was even more
distinguished and more regular, but whether it were the effect of her
dark-brown hair and darker eyes, her countenance had not the lustre of
the res, and its expression was grave and perhaps pensive.

The duke, though still young, and naturally of a gay and joyous
temperament, had a high sense of duty, and strong domestic feelings. He
was never wanting in his public place, and he was fond of his wife and