' said Louis, blushing, but with
curious naivete. 'Well, I have been thinking of that, and I really do
not believe there was anything in it. I did make myself rather a fool
at Beauchastel, and Jem would have made me a greater one; but you know
my father put a stop to it. Thinking her handsomer than other people
can't be love, can it?'

'Not alone, certainly.'

'And actually,' he pursued, 'I don't believe I ever think of her when I
am out of the way of her! No, indeed! if I had not believed that was
all over, do you think I could have said what I did yesterday?'

'Not unless you believed so.'

'Well, but really you don't consider how little I have seen of her. I
was in awe of her at first, and since, I have kept away on purpose. I
never got on with her at all till the other evening. I don't believe I
care for her one bit. Then,' suddenly pausing, and changing his tone,
'you don't trust me after all.'

'I do. I trust your principle and kindness implicitly, but I think the
very innocence of your heart prevents you from knowing what you are
about.'

'It is very hard,' said Louis; 'every one will have it that I must be
in love, till I shall have to believe so myself, and when I know it
cannot come to good.'

'You are making yourself more simple than you really are,' said Mra.
Ponsonby, half provoked.

Louis shut his eyes, and seemed to be rousing his faculties; then,
taking a new turn, he earnestly said, 'You know that the promises must
settle the question, and keep my affections fast.'

'Ah, Louis! there is the point. Others, true and sincere as yourself,
have broken their own hearts, and those of others, from having made
vows in wilful ignorance of latent feelings. It would be a sin in me
to allow you to bind yourself to Mary, with so little comprehension as
you have of your own sentiments.'

'Then I have done wrong in proposing it.'

'What would have been wrong in some cases, was more of blindness--ay,
and kindness--in you. Louis, I cannot tell you my gratitude for your
wish to take care of my dear girl,' she said, with tears in her eyes.
'I hope you fully understand me.'

'I see I have made a fool of myself again, and that you have a right to
be very angry with me.'

'Not quite,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, smiling, 'but I am going to give you
some advice. Settle your mind as to Miss Conway. Your father is
beginning to perceive that his distrust was undeserved; he has promised
me not to object in ca