‘Profess!  Do you doubt me?’

’I do not doubt that you are perfectly in earnest now; but my knowledge of mankind forbids my putting much faith in the endurance of the sort of feeling with which you profess—­I cannot give up the word, you see—­to be inspired.  My child, so says the world, is beautiful—­very beautiful.  Yours may be a mere passion for her beauty.’

‘You wrong me,’ replied the young man; ’I have known and admired her long enough to appreciate her intrinsic worth.  Her image is as dear to me as my own life’

Dodbury bent on his young friend a long and earnest look of inquiry.  He was a good reader of human nature.  He saw that, as the lover spoke, his eye lightened with enthusiasm, his lips quivered with emotion, his cheeks glowed with blushes.  ’I have little faith in these violent emotions,’ thought the wary man of the world, as he leaned back in his easy-chair for a moment’s reflection.  ’Fierce flames burn out quickly.  This affair surrounds me with difficulties.’

About a month after Miss Dodbury’s complete recovery, her father opened the same topic gradually and delicately to her.  Catherine had scarcely nurtured a thought which she had not confided to her father; being her only parent, she looked up to him as the directing source of all her actions.  He was ‘the king of her narrow world.’  In discussing this matter, therefore, though overwhelmed with a maiden shame, she was not reserved.  From what she said, the sorrowing father gathered that her maiden affections were twined around a man whom her own innate propriety and pride, not to include other obstacles, should prevent her from marrying.  This disclosure gave Dodbury great pain.  He determined to use more vigilance, caution, and prudence, than ever.  His obvious course was to bring about, if possible, a reconciliation to the match with Mrs Hardman; but he refrained.  The purity of the young lover’s sentiments had yet to be tried.  Time, he determined, should put that to the test.

Meanwhile, Lady Elizabeth had accepted Mrs Hardman’s invitation.  She and Herbert Hardman were constantly thrown together; and it was manifest, after a time, that despite the almost studied neglect with which he treated her ladyship, she entertained a strong feeling in his favour.  This Mrs Hardman endeavoured by every means in her power to induce Herbert to reciprocate; but in vain—­the attraction of Catherine Dodbury was too powerful.  It must be owned, however, that his vanity was a little flattered by the haughty beauty condescending to feel a sentiment for him.

This state of things was too equivocal and uncertain to last.  Catherine strove, as long and as firmly as maiden could strive, against her love; whilst Herbert fed his by every sort of attention it was possible to evince.  At length Dodbury felt the necessity of some strong measure.  He perceived that consent to the match was less likely than ever, since the tender regard which Lady Plympton had evinced.  He, therefore, after a long interview with Mrs Hardman, penned a kind note to Herbert, in which he, with every expression of regret for the step he felt bound to take, forbade him his house, or any further communication with his daughter.