OpinionsOCTOBER 1st--All is settled now. My father has given his con sent, and the time is fixed for Christmas, by a sort of compromise between the respective advocates for hurry and delay. Milicent Hargrave is to be one bridesmaid, and Annabella Wilmot the other--not that I am particularly fond of the latter, but she is an intimate of the family, and I have not another friend.
When I told Milicent of my engagement, she rather provoked me by her manner of taking it. Alter staring a moment In mute surprise, she said--
`Well, Helen, I suppose I ought to congratulate you--and I am glad to see you so happy; but I did not think you would take him; and I can't help feeling surprised that you should like him so much.'
`Because you are so superior to him In every way, and there's something so bold--and reckless--about him--so, I don't know how--but I always feel a wish to get out of his way, when I see him approach.'
`You are timid' Milicent, but that's no fault of his.'
`And then his look,' continued she. `People say he's handsome, and of course he is, but I don't like that kind of beauty; and I wonder that you should.'
`Why so, pray?'
`Well, you know, I think there's nothing noble or lofty in his appearance.'
`In fact, you wonder that I can like anyone so unlike the stilted heroes of romance? Well! give me my flesh and blood lover, and I'll leave all the Sir Herberts and Valentines to you--If you can find them.'
`I don't want them,' said she. `I'll be satIsfied with flesh and blood too--only the spirit must shine through and predominate. But don't you think Mr Huntingdon's face is too red?'
`No!' cried I, indignantly. `It is not red at all. There is just a pleasant glow--a healthy freshness in his complexion, the warm, pinky tint of the whole harmonizing with the deeper colour of the cheeks, exactly as it ought to do. I hate a man to be red and white, like a painted doll--or all sickly white, or smoky black, or cadaverous yellow!'
`Well, tastes differ--but I like pale or dark,' replied she. `But, to tell you the truth, Helen, I had been deluding myself with the hope that you would one day be my sister. I expected Walter would be introduced to you next season; and I thought you would like him, and was certain he would like you; and I flattered myself I should thus have the felicity of seeing the two persons I like best in the world--except mamma-- united in one. He mayn't be exactly what you would call handsome, but he's far more distinguished looking, and nicer and better than Mr Huntingdon;--and I'm sure you would say so, if you knew'
`Impossible, Milicent! You think so, because you're his sister; and, on that account, I'll forgive you; but nobody else should so disparage Arthur Huntingdon to me with impunity.'
Miss Wilmot expressed her feelings on the subject, almost as openly.
`And so, Helen,' said she, coming up to me with a smile of no amiable import, `you are to be Mrs Huntingdon, I suppose?'
`Yes,' replied I. `Don't you envy me?'
`Oh, dear, no!' she exclaimed. `I shall probably be Lady Low borough some day, and then you know, dear, I shall be In a capacity to enquire, "Don't you envy me?"'
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