'
'Oh, my dear Miss Lizzie,' cried Mrs. Turner, 'I am so delighted to
have the honour, you cannot think! It is my nephew, Augustus Mills,
who lectures to-night. Most talented young man, poor fellow, is
Augustus--never without a book in his hand; quite in your line, Miss
Lizzie.'
At this moment the gentleman quite in Elizabeth's line came into the
room. He had a quantity of bushy black hair, a long gold chain round
his neck, a plaid velvet waistcoat, in which scarlet was the
predominant colour--and his whole air expressed full consciousness of
the distinguished part which he was about to act. Poor Elizabeth!
little reliance as she usually placed in Katherine's descriptions,
she had expected to see something a little more gentleman-like than
what she now beheld; and her dismay was increased, when Mrs. Turner
addressed her nephew--'Augustus, Augustus, my dear, you never were so
flattered in your life? Here _is_ Miss Merton, and Miss Hazleby, and
Miss Lizzie Woodbourne, all come on purpose to hear your lecture!'
Mr. Augustus said something about being very happy, and bowed, but
whether to the young ladies or to his own reflection in the looking-
glass was doubtful.
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