vain. Geraldine, unwilling to interrupt them, flew with the speed of an Atalanta; and Fanny, resolved upon overtaking her, left her father to moralize alone.

CHAPTER XIV.

MRS. MOWBRAY had too much elasticity of mind to remain long in a state of depression; and she persuaded herself that the next best thing to accepting Lord Glenmore, was having had the opportunity of refusing him. She determined to make the most of this circumstance; and began to ruminate on the most effectual means of sweetening and disguising the unpalatable draught she was about to administer.

It appeared the easiest plan to convey the intelligence by letter; and after some consideration, the following was dispatched :

"To Lord Glenmore.

"My dear Lord Glenmore.

"Though I do not absolutely wish, like that immaculate person in days of yore, for a window in my bosom, through which all my thoughts may be discerned, yet I am so little in the habit of disguising my feelings, that you must

easily have perceived the high satisfaction I derived from the commission with which you yesterday honoured me. What mother, indeed, could be insensible to the peculiar advantages of an alliance with Lord Glenmore; and what daughter, except my own, would not esteem it the highest privilege to be thus sought? She has, however, surprised me, by discovering a weakness, of which I did not suspect her. With the fullest conviction of your disinterestedness, and the deepest gratitude for your preference, she contends that marriage must be miserable, unless une grande passion is felt, and excited. She wishes to love and to be loved in the Hero and Leander style; and unless she finds some Angel in green and gold,' for whom she could hang or drown herself, is determined to live in single blessedness, and chaunt hymns to the cold chaste moon." The pleadings of reason and common sense are alike thrown away upon her: she is impracticable on this point, and we really should be disposed to laugh heartily at such nonsense, did it not interfere so materially with her own happiness, and crush our hopes of a union, in every point of view honourable and desirable for her, and so highly gratifying to Mr. Mowbray and myself. But, aware of the calm superiority of your mind and character, she unites with me in the hope, that though she has so unwisely refused to accept you as her preux chevalier, you will allow us still to enjoy your society, as l'ami

de la maison.

am,

Allow me to assure you, that I

"With the utmost regard and esteem,
"Your Lordship's

"Most obliged and sincere friend,
"GEORGIANA MOWBRAY."

When finished, she put the letter into Mr. Mowbray's hands. After reading the opening paragraph

"Can you indulge me, my dear,” said he, "with the name of the immaculate person who formed the rash wish to which you refer? I confess I have some doubts of his existence."

"Nonsense; what can it signify, it was Solon or Socrates, or some of those worthies; but whether he really lived, or not, is nothing to the purpose; do pray finish reading the letter, for it is time it was sealed and sent."

Mr. Mowbray did as she desired, and slowly folding it up, exclaimed, as he returned it to her outstretched hand, "Very well got up, indeed, and 1 particularly admire the truth and simplicity so conspicuous in every line.”

"Actions are to be judged by their motives, you know, Mr. Mowbray; and mine are of the most benevolent kind. It is but charity to console Lord Glenmore for the cruelty of his lady bright, by putting him in good humour with himself."

"I am no casuist, my dear," returned Mr. Mowbray. "Doubtless practice has given you

a very enviable facility in managing these delicate questions, and I leave you to settle the business with your conscience as well as you

can.'

Mrs. Mowbray found no difficulty in settling the business with her conscience; nor did any 'compunctious visitings' prevent her disclosing the whole history of the refusal to every creature of her acquaintance; and the envy of some, the sympathy of others, and the astonishment of all, in some degree softened the acute sense of disappointment by which she was at first oppressed.

Mademoiselle Dubourg's exclamations and lamentations on the subject were long and loud.

"Mais donc ! ma chere amie; mon ange; e'est inconcevable! Bon Dieu! Quinze mille livres de rentes, et vous avez refusé ce Milord la! cela fait horreur !"

Fanny in vain endeavoured to vindicate her own judgment in the business; in vain pleaded that she cared nothing at all about Lord GlenMademoiselle Dubourg would not listen; she continued to exclaim, "Mais donc, Grand Dieu! J'en suis desolée !""

more.

"Pray console yourself, my dear Mademoiselle," said Fanny. "I expect to enchain at least half-a-dozen lovers more."

Alais, oui, mon enfant, les amans, à la bonne heure, as many as you please; mais avec un mari, un homme comme il faut, tout cela s'arrange."

Fanny begged to assure her, that, tout au contraire, in England the cortége of lovers must be dismissed on or before the wedding day; and Mademoiselle was beginning to lament it as a serious evil, when Mr. Maitland walked into the room.

Fanny, at that moment, rather proud of her own conduct, and of the disinterestedness she had displayed, received him with an undisguised pleasure that did not escape Mademoiselle Dubourg's attention. After watching her in silence, for a few minutes, she hastily left the room; and exclaiming, after she had shut the door, "voila un trait de lumiere," went in quest of Mrs. Mowbray, to whom she communicated her suspicions, that "ce prêtre, cet ecclesiastique, un homme pas du tout comme il faut, had been the chief cause of Fanny's indifference to the splendid offers of Milord Glenmore."

Mrs. Mowbray listened with patient politeness; and though quite convinced that her daughter was still sufficiently sane not to listen to the addresses of a country curate, she thought it not impossible that intercourse with Mr. Maitland might so quicken her perception of real excellence, as to induce a very inconvenient degree of fastidiousness in her choice of a husband; and she resolved, by the coldness of her manner, and by those little repelling arts so soon felt and understood by a delicate mind, to put an end, if possible, to any thing like intimacy between them.