112 ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.

“ And I may have it yet,” replied the discon-
tented beauty, with a weary smile; “I may
have it yet; my husband’s brother is still child-
less. If I could be but certain that the grave
would receive him a childless man, how proudly
I would take precedence of such a woman as
Lady G ”

Rose looked at her as she spoke. In the
glorious meridian of her beauty—a creature so
splendid—of such a fair outside—with energy,
and grace, and power—married by a weak am-
bition—an ambition achieved by the accident of
birth—an ambition having neither honour, nor
virtue, nor patriotism, nor any one laudable aim,
for its object. And she sorrowed in her inmost
soul for her cousin Helen.

 

CHAPTER VII.

Rose never’ of course, made one at the bril-
liant assemblies which Mrs. Ivers gave and
graced; she only saw-those who breakfasted or
lunched in the square, or who, like the little
old gentleman, and one or two others, joined
the family circle. 'The excitement of an elec-
tion, and the (pro tem.) equality which such an
event creates, brought her more into contact