trice and Ethelind were returning one evening from a long walk,
and being very tired, they sat down on a bank facing the Towy to rest
themselves, and watch the setting sun sink behind the undulating
mountains that almost surrounded them. They were, for some minutes, so
absorbed in the scene before them, that neither spoke; at last
Beatrice exclaimed:--

"What a pity it is, Ethelind, that you and Mr. Barclay never took it
into your heads to fall in love with each other; you would make such a
capital clergyman's wife."

"Beatrice!" said Ethelind, "why talk thus; do you mean to say that you
have been insensible to his attachment to you?"

"I do not mean to say that," replied she, "but I can assure you, that
if there is such a feeling, it is only on his side."

"And yet, you have not only received, but met his attentions with such
evident pleasure, and given him such decided encouragement."

"Now, Ethy, how could I resist a flirtation with such an interesting
character?"

"Oh, Beatrice, did you never think of the pain you might inflict by
leading him to suppose his affection was reciprocated."

"Never, my consciencious little Ethelind, he is too poor, nay, too
good, for me to think seriously of becoming his wife."

"Oh, Beatrice! I thought you had a more noble heart than to trifle
with the affections of such a man, particularly now there is a chance
of recovering your property; you might be so happy, and make him so
too."

"And do, you think, if I do recover it, I should throw myself away on
a poor curate, and that I should like to lead such a quiet hum-drum
life. No, my dear girl, I was never made to appreciate such goodness
or imitate it either."

"Then, of course, you will alter your conduct, ere you go too far, and
not render him wretched, perhaps for life."

"Of course, I shall do no such thing, his attentions are too pleasing;
it does not appear he will be here long, so I must make the most of
the time."

"Oh, Beatrice, think what havoc you may make in the happiness of a
worthy man; look at his character; see his exemplary conduct; and
could you, for the paltry gratification of your vanity, condemn him to
the pangs of unrequited love. He has now, I fear, the ills of poverty
to struggle against; did you notice his emotion when speaking of his
mother and sisters? perhaps they are dependant on him,--you must not,
shall not trifle with him thus."

"And why not, dearest Ethelind; I shall really begin to su