ce which then dwelt upon his thoughts.

She felt the indecorum of the posture he had condescended to take, and
was shocked. To see her guardian at her feet, struck her with a sense of
impropriety, as if she had seen a parent there. All agitation and
emotion, she implored him to rise, and, with a thousand protestations,
declared, "That she thought the rashness of the action was the highest
proof of his regard for her."

Miss Woodley now entered; her care being ever employed upon the
unfortunate, Lord Frederick had been the object of it: she had waited by
his side, and, with every good purpose, had preached patience to him,
while he was smarting under the pain, but more under the shame, of his
chastisement. At first, his fury threatened a retort upon the servants
around him (and who refused his entrance into the house) of the
punishment he had received. But, in the certainty of an _amende
honorable_, which must hereafter be made, he overcame the many
temptations which the moment offered, and re-mounting his horse rode
away from the scene of his disgrace.

No sooner had Miss Woodley entered the room, and Dorriforth had resigned
to her the care of his ward, than he flew to the spot where he had left
Lord Frederick, negligent of what might be the event if he still
remained there. After enquiring, and being told that he was gone,
Dorriforth returned to his own apartment; and with a bosom torn by more
excruciating sensations than those which he had given to his adversary.

The reflection that struck him first with remorse, as he shut the door
upon himself, was:--"I have departed from my character--from the sacred
character, and the dignity of my profession and sentiments--I have
departed from myself. I am no longer the philosopher, but the ruffian--I
have treated with an unpardonable insult a young nobleman, whose only
offence was love, and a fond desire to insinuate himself into the favour
of his mistress. I must atone for this outrage in whatever manner he may
choose; and the law of honour and of justice (though in this one
instance contrary to the law of religion) enjoins, that if he demands my
life in satisfaction for his wounded feelings, it is his due. Alas! that
I could have laid it down this morning, unsullied with a cause for which
it will make but inadequate atonement."

His next reproach was--"I have offended and filled with horror, a
beautiful young woman, whom it was my duty to have protected from those
bruta