Was I only to be parted from beauty, that I might meet again in every town and village.—­I want you to force me from the house.—­Suppose I get up early, and slip away without taking leave.—­But that will not do;—­Sir James is ceremonious;—­Lady Powis may deem it disrespect;—­above all, Miss Warley, that dear, dear Miss Warley,—­if she should think me wanting in regard, all then must be at an end.

Ha!  Sir James yonder on the terrace, and alone!  Let me examine his countenance:—­I see no clouds;—­this is the time, if ever!—­Miss Warley not yet come up from Jenkings’s!—­If successful, with what transports shall I run to fetch her!—­Yes, I will venture;—­I will have one trial, as I hope for mercy.—­

* * * * *

As I hope for mercy, I see, were my last words.—­I do indeed hope for it, but never from Sir James.

Still perplexed;—­still miserable!—­

I told you Miss Warley was not come from Jenkings’s; but how I started, when I saw her going to Lady Powis’s dressing-room!

I was hurried about her in a dream, last night.—­I thought I had lost her:—­I hinted it when we met;—­that moment I fancied she eyed me with regard;—­she spoke too in a manner very different from what she has done some days past.—­Then I’ll swear it,—­for it was not illusion, George,—­her whole face had something of a sweet melancholy spread over it;—­a kind of resignation in her look;—­a melting softness that droop’d on her cheek:—­I felt what it expressed;—­it fir’d my whole frame;—­it sent me to Sir James with redoubled eagerness.

I found him thoughtful and complaisant:  we took several turns, before I could introduce my intended subject; when, talking of my setting out, I said, Now I have an opportunity, Sir James, perhaps I may not have another before I go, I should be glad of your sentiments in regard to my settling in life.—­

How do you mean, my Lord; as to the choice of a wife?—­

Why, I think, Sir, there’s no other way of settling to one’s satisfaction.

To be sure, it is very necessary your Lordship should consider on those matters,—­especially as you are the last of a noble family:—­when, you do fix, I hope it will be prudently.

Prudently, Sir James! you may depend on it I will never settle my affections imprudently.

Wall, but, my Lord, what are your notions of prudence?

Why, Sir, to make choice of a person who is virtuous, sensible, well descended.—­Well descended Jenkings has assured me she is.

You say nothing, my Lord, of what is most essential to happiness;—­nothing of the main point.

Good-nature, I suppose you mean:—­I would not marry an ill-natur’d woman, Sir James, for the world.  And is good-nature, with those you have mention’d, the only requisites?

I think they are the chief, Sir.