kind and thoughtful that I cannot do so
without rudeness and seeming ingratitude. I sometimes think I ought to
give him credit for the good feeling he simulates so well; and then
again, I think it is my duty to suspect him under the peculiar
circumstances in which I am placed. His kindness may not all be feigned;
but still, let not the purest impulse of gratitude to him induce me to
forget myself: let me remember the game of chess, the expressions he used
on the occasion, and those indescribable looks of his, that so justly
roused my indignation, and I think I shall be safe enough. I have done
well to record them so minutely.

I think he wishes to find an opportunity of speaking to me alone: he has
seemed to be on the watch all day; but I have taken care to disappoint
him--not that I fear anything he could say, but I have trouble enough
without the addition of his insulting consolations, condolences, or
whatever else he might attempt; and, for Milicent's sake, I do not wish
to quarrel with him. He excused himself from going out to shoot with the
other gentlemen in the morning, under the pretext of having letters to
write; and instead of retiring for that purpose into the library, he sent
for his desk into the morning-room, where I was seated with Milicent and
Lady Lowborough. They had betaken themselves to their work; I, less to
divert my mind than to deprecate conversation, had provided myself with a
book. Milicent saw that I wished to be quiet, and accordingly let me
alone. Annabella, doubtless, saw it too: but that was no reason why she
should restrain her tongue, or curb her cheerful spirits: she accordingly
chatted away, addressing herself almost exclusively to me, and with the
utmost assurance and familiarity, growing the more animated and friendly
the colder and briefer my answers became. Mr. Hargrave saw that I could
ill endure it, and, looking up from his desk, he answered her questions
and observations for me, as far as he could, and attempted to transfer
her social attentions from me to himself; but it would not do. Perhaps
she thought I had a headache, and could not bear to talk; at any rate,
she saw that her loquacious vivacity annoyed me, as I could tell by the
malicious pertinacity with which she persisted. But I checked it
effectually by putting into her hand the book I had been trying to read,
on the fly-leaf of which I had hastily scribbled,--

'I am too well acquainted with your character an