On his way to Helen’s, he met his cousin, and they walked on together.  At length Sir Horace Mortimer asked, “George, my boy do you not begin to think of marrying; it is in my opinion, high time you should—­let me see; you must be eight and twenty, why you are losing time sadly, take care I don’t get spliced first, as sailors say.”

“Why sir, they do say Maria Falkner has certainly made a conquest of you.”

“They do, do they:  its very kind of them to settle so important a point for me.  Do you approve the match.”

“I think there are many who would make you happier.”

“Miss Willoughby, for instance!” said Sir Horace.

“Miss Willoughby! sir.”

“Yes, Miss Willoughby, George, what objection?  Should I be the first old man, who has married a young girl? and made her happy too.  I intend to make her a proposal to-day.”

“You! sir; you surely don’t mean what you say!”

“But I do, though; I was never more in earnest in my life.  But, eh, George! what is the matter? you change colour.  You don’t want her yourself?  You know you can’t marry her and Miss Falkner too.”

“I marry Miss Falkner?  Never; I would sooner be wedded to—­”

“Hold! my boy; I know the workings of that wayward heart of yours, better than you think; and, therefore, let us understand each other; at any rate, let me be clearly understood, when I say, that unless you make up your mind to marry Helen Willoughby, I shall.”

“But, my dear Sir Horace, though I greatly admire and esteem her far beyond any woman I ever saw.  Yet I am,——­” and he paused.

“You are what?  Shall I tell you?  You are so very fastidious, that you are refining away your happiness, like anything but a sensible man.  You don’t expect perfection, do you?  The long and the short of the matter, is this:  in your haste to answer my letter from the Downs, you sent me, by mistake, a confidential epistle, which you had intended for some intimate friend.  Not having any signature, I went on reading it, nor till you adverted to my arrival off Deal, was I aware who was the writer.  It was a lucky contre temps, it gave me a better insight into your views and character, than years of common intercourse could have done.  I admire your principles, though I think you carry them a little too far.  Now don’t blame me, as I again repeat, you omitted your name at the end.  So no more nonsense, my lad; ’screw up your courage to the sticking point,’ and go, and propose for the girl at once.  You must do it, I tell you, or I disinherit you, and give her every penny; and, as I before said, myself into the bargain.  But I am off to Sherman’s and thence, to Miss Willoughby, where I shall expect you in an hour, so you had best be on the alert.  You will not be the first young man who has been outwitted by an old one, so mind.”  Saying this, he left his young relative, who was not, however, very tardy in following advice so consonant to his own wishes.