tion to a noble peer on the confines of the shire, of
untainted descent, steady Tory principles, and the happy father of six
unmarried and accomplished daughters.

Sir Everard's reception in this family was, as it may be easily
conceived, sufficiently favourable; but of the six young ladies, his
taste unfortunately determined him in favour of Lady Emily, the youngest,
who received his attentions with an embarrassment which showed at once
that she durst not decline them, and that they afforded her anything but
pleasure.

Sir Everard could not but perceive something uncommon in the restrained
emotions which the young lady testified at the advances he hazarded; but,
assured by the prudent Countess that they were the natural effects of a
retired education, the sacrifice might have been completed, as doubtless
has happened in many similar instances, had it not been for the courage
of an elder sister, who revealed to the wealthy suitor that Lady Emily's
affections were fixed upon a young soldier of fortune, a near relation of
her own.

Sir Everard manifested great emotion on receiving this intelligence,
which was confirmed to him, in a private interview, by the young lady
herself, although under the most dreadful apprehensions of her father's
indignation.

Honour and generosity were hereditary attributes of the house of
Waverley. With a grace and delicacy worthy the hero of a romance, Sir
Everard withdrew his claim to the hand of Lady Emily. He had even, before
leaving Blandeville Castle, the address to extort from her father a
consent to her union with the object of her choice. What arguments he
used on this point cannot exactly be known, for Sir Everard was never
supposed strong in the powers of persuasion; but the young officer,
immediately after this transaction, rose in the army with a rapidity far
surpassing the usual pace of unpatronised professional merit, although,
to outward appearance, that was all he had to depend upon.

The shock which Sir Everard encountered upon this occasion, although
diminished by the consciousness of having acted virtuously and generously
had its effect upon his future life. His resolution of marriage had been
adopted in a fit of indignation; the labour of courtship did not quite
suit the dignified indolence of his habits; he had but just escaped the
risk of marrying a woman who could never love him, and his pride could
not be greatly flattered by the termination of his amour, even if h