(rood soul! She has substantial notions still left, I find, of ideal love! Those notions, I fancy, last a long time, with those who have not had the oppor-tunity of gratifying the silly passion! Be angry, if you will, Harriet, I don’t care.

Well, hut, thus gravely, as became the question, answered my brother The favour which this incomparable lady honoured me with, was never dis owned: on the contrary, it was always avowed, and to the very last. She had therefore no uncertainty to contend with: she had no balancings in her mind. Her contention, as she supposed, was altogether in favour of her duty to Heaven. She is exemplarily pious. While she remains a zealous Roman Catho-lic, she must persevere; and I dare say she will.

I don’t know what to make of these Papists, said our old Protestant aunt Neil (Aunt Nell, did I say? Cry mercy!) Thank God you are come home safe and sound, and without a papistical wife! It is very hard, if England cannot find a wife for you, nephew.

We all smiled at aunt Nell The duce is in me, I believe! Aunt Nell again! But let it go.

Lady L. asked when I saw or heard from the dowager Countess of D?

Is there any other Countess of D. Lady L .? said Sir Charles: a fine glow taking possession of his cheeks.

Your servant, brother, thought I; I am not sorry for your charming apprehensiveness.

No, Sir, replied Lady L.

Would you, brother, said Boldface (you know who that is, Harriet) that there should be another Countess of D.?

I wish my Lord D. happy, Charlotte. I hear him as well spoken of as any of our young nobility.

You don’t know what I mean, I warrant, Sir Charles! resumed, with an intentional archness, your saucy friend.

I believe I do, Lady G, I wish Miss Byron to be one of the happiest women in the world, because she is one of the best My dear, to Emily, I hope you have had nothing to disturb or vex you, from your mother’s husband

Nor from my mother, Sir All is good, and as it should be. You have overcome

That’s well, my dear Would not the Bath wa-ters be good for Sir Harry? my dear Beauchamp.

A second remove, thought I! But I’ll catch you, brother, I’ll warrant (as rustics sometimes, in their play, do a ball) on the rebound.

Now, Harriet, you will be piqued, I suppose. Your delicacy will be offended, because I urged the question. I see a blush of disdain arising in your lovely cheek, restoring to it the roses, and giving its na-tural brilliancy to your conscious eye. Indeed we all began to be afraid of a little affectation in my brother. But we needed not. He would not suffer us to put him upon the subject again. After a few other general questions and answers, of toko and who; and how and Amu; and what and when, and so forth; he turned to Dr. Bartlett.