 eminent, her
accomplishments so many, her face so beautiful, and her manners so bewitching,
that he could not but entertain fears that some suitor more favoured than
himself by fortune, and more acceptable to Edith's family than he durst hope to
be, might step in between him and the object of his affections. Common rumour
had raised up such a rival in Lord Evandale, whom birth, fortune, connections,
and political principles, as well as his frequent visits at Tillietudlem, and
his attendance upon Lady Bellenden and her niece at all public places, naturally
pointed out as a candidate for her favour. It frequently and inevitably
happened, that engagements to which Lord Evandale was a party interfered with
the meeting of the lovers; and Henry could not but mark that Edith either
studiously avoided speaking of the young nobleman, or did so with obvious
reserve and hesitation.
    These symptoms, which in fact arose from the delicacy of her own feelings
towards Morton himself, were misconstrued by his diffident temper; and the
jealousy which they excited was fermented by the occasional observations of
Jenny Dennison. This true-bred serving-damsel was, in her own person, a complete
country coquette, and when she had no opportunity of teasing her own lovers,
used to take some occasional opportunity to torment her young lady's. This arose
from no ill-will to Henry Morton, who, both on her mistress's account and his
own handsome form and countenance, stood high in her esteem. But then Lord
Evandale was also handsome; he was liberal far beyond what Morton's means could
afford, and he was a lord, moreover; and, if Miss Edith Bellenden should accept
his hand, she would become a baron's lady; and, what was more, little Jenny
Dennison, whom the awful housekeeper at Tillietudlem huffed about at her
pleasure, would be then Mrs. Dennison, Lady Evandale's own woman, or perhaps her
ladyship's lady-in-waiting. The impartiality of Jenny Dennison, therefore, did
not, like that of Mrs. Quickly, extend to a wish that both the handsome suitors
could wed her young lady; for it must be owned that the scale of her regard was
depressed in favour of Lord Evandale, and her wishes in his favour took many
shapes extremely tormenting to Morton - being now expressed as a friendly
caution, now as an article of intelligence, and anon as a merry jest, but always
tending to confirm the idea that, sooner or later, his romantic intercourse with
her young mistress must have a close, and that Edith
