together, equally without error, and without consciousness.

Once she felt that he was looking at herself, observing her altered features, perhaps, trying to trace in them the ruins of the face which had once charmed him; and once she knew that he must have spoken of her; she was hardly aware of it, till she heard the answer; but then she was sure of his having asked his partner whether Miss Elliot never danced? The answer was, “Oh, no; never; she has quite given up dancing. She had rather play. She is never tired of playing.” Once, too, he spoke to her. She had left the instrument on the dancing being over, and he had sat down to try to make out an air which he wished to give the Miss Musgroves an idea of.

Unintentionally she returned to that part of the room; he saw her,