s, would hold on till his bidding was done, and if it should not be
done, he would hold on out of spite. "Oh, he will tire me out;" that
I remember Ambrose Tester did say. I had done him injustice, for six
months later he told me he was engaged. It had all come about very
suddenly. From one day to the other the right young woman had been
found. I forget who had found her; some aunt or cousin, I think; it had
not been the young man himself. But when she was found, he rose to the
occasion; he took her up seriously, he approved of her thoroughly, and
I am not sure that he didn't fall a little in love with her, ridiculous
(excuse my London tone) as this accident may appear. He told me that his
father was delighted, and I knew afterwards that he had good reason to
be. It was not till some weeks later that I saw the girl; but meanwhile
I had received the pleasantest impression of her, and this impression
came--must have come--mainly from what her intended told me. That proves
that he spoke with some positiveness, spoke as if he really believed he
was doing a good thing. I had it on my tongue's end to ask him how Lady
Vandeleur liked her, but I fortunately checked this vulgar inquiry. He
liked her evidently, as I say; every one liked her, and when I knew her
I liked her better even than the others. I like her to-day more than
ever; it is fair you should know that, in reading this account of her
situation. It doubtless colors my picture, gives a point to my sense of
the strangeness of my little story.

Joscelind Bernardstone came of a military race, and had been brought
up in camps,--by which I don't mean she was one of those objectionable
young women who are known as garrison hacks. She was in the flower of
her freshness, and had been kept in the tent, receiving, as an only
daughter, the most "particular" education from the excellent Lady Emily
(General Bernardstone married a daughter of Lord Clandufly), who looks
like a pink-faced rabbit, and is (after Joscelind) one of the nicest
women I know. When I met them in a country-house, a few weeks after the
marriage was "arranged," as they say here, Joscelind won my affections
by saying to me, with her timid directness (the speech made me feel
sixty years old), that she must thank me for having been so kind to Mr.
Tester. You saw her at Doubleton, and you will remember that though she
has no regular beauty, many a prettier woman would be very glad to look
like her. She is as fresh a