" Who is that ?" at length said I, in a whisper to Bell Wilson,
my neighbor, as he disappeared.
" I cannot say, Cornelia," was her reply. " Papa saw a
stranger at the porch, and asked him to our pew. He is a
handsome fellow !"



SOUTHERN MATRON. Ill

I did not join in her admiration. I was o£fended, I knew
not why ; and went pouting into the chair with papa with an
air of uncommon dignity.
CHAPTER XV.
THE STEANGER.— COUNTRY CHRISTMAS.— MORTIFICATIONS.
" The household stir
Warned me to rise—
A stir unusual, and accompanied
With many a tuning of rude instruments."

Rogers' Italy,

" 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood
So blithe Lady Alice is singing,
On the beech's pride and oak's brown side
Lord Richard?8 axe is ringing."

Sir Walter Scott,

My frowns were quite unnoticed by papa, who solaced him-
self for my silence by singing St. Martin's. This is one joy of
the woods ; freedom to sing or shout in the overflow of feeling,
or even in the glory of vacuity. It was not for me at my age
to muse long; my head was too full of the young hero.
" Papa," said I, " did you see that stranger at church ?"

" Yes, my love," he answered, resuming an interrupted strain
of St. Martin's.
" Did you not think him handsome ?" said I, pulling an over-
hanging branch of bay-tree as we passed it.
" I can't say I did," replied he.
" Oh papa ! But you will acknowledge that he has a very
refined and noble air," said I, with earnestness.
