hen I say, that unless you
make up your mind to marry Helen Willoughby, I shall."

"But, my dear Sir Horace, though I greatly admire and esteem her far
beyond any woman I ever saw. Yet I am,----" and he paused.

"You are what? Shall I tell you? You are so very fastidious, that you
are refining away your happiness, like anything but a sensible man.
You don't expect perfection, do you? The long and the short of the
matter, is this: in your haste to answer my letter from the Downs, you
sent me, by mistake, a confidential epistle, which you had intended
for some intimate friend. Not having any signature, I went on reading
it, nor till you adverted to my arrival off Deal, was I aware who was
the writer. It was a lucky _contre temps_, it gave me a better insight
into your views and character, than years of common intercourse could
have done. I admire your principles, though I think you carry them a
little too far. Now don't blame me, as I again repeat, you omitted
your name at the end. So no more nonsense, my lad; 'screw up your
courage to the sticking point,' and go, and propose for the girl at
once. You must do it, I tell you, or I disinherit you, and give her
every penny; and, as I before said, myself into the bargain. But I am
off to Sherman's and thence, to Miss Willoughby, where I shall expect
you in an hour, so you had best be on the alert. You will not be the
first young man who has been outwitted by an old one, so mind." Saying
this, he left his young relative, who was not, however, very tardy in
following advice so consonant to his own wishes.

It may be thought George Mortimer was too particular, but be it
remembered, it was a most honorable feeling that led to his
deliberation; viz., the firm resolve not to win Helen's, affections,
and then leave her. No, he nobly resolved first to learn the state of
his own feelings; and well would it be if many others would act
equally generous. But no! however men decry beauty, they are all its
slaves, and it ever wins a willing homage from them. They are won by
the attractions of a pretty face, and are in consequence, most
particular in their attentions to its possessor; who is thus singled
out, and in all probability, is subject to the jokes of her friends
till from so constantly hearing, she is beloved, she believes it to be
so, nor awakes from her dream, till she sees herself supplanted by a
newer or prettier face. This is a crying evil: a bad state of things;
and in reg