she, "he is going--Mr. De Courcy is going,
and it is all my fault. I am afraid you will be very angry with me, but
indeed I had no idea it would end so." "My love," I replied, "do not
think it necessary to apologize to me on that account. I shall feel
myself under an obligation to anyone who is the means of sending my
brother home, because," recollecting myself, "I know my father wants
very much to see him. But what is it you have done to occasion all
this?" She blushed deeply as she answered: "I was so unhappy about Sir
James that I could not help--I have done something very wrong, I know;
but you have not an idea of the misery I have been in: and mamma had
ordered me never to speak to you or my uncle about it, and--" "You
therefore spoke to my brother to engage his interference," said I, to
save her the explanation. "No, but I wrote to him--I did indeed, I got
up this morning before it was light, and was two hours about it; and
when my letter was done I thought I never should have courage to give
it. After breakfast however, as I was going to my room, I met him in the
passage, and then, as I knew that everything must depend on that moment,
I forced myself to give it. He was so good as to take it immediately. I
dared not look at him, and ran away directly. I was in such a fright I
could hardly breathe. My dear aunt, you do not know how miserable I
have been." "Frederica" said I, "you ought to have told me all your
distresses. You would have found in me a friend always ready to assist
you. Do you think that your uncle or I should not have espoused your
cause as warmly as my brother?" "Indeed, I did not doubt your kindness,"
said she, colouring again, "but I thought Mr. De Courcy could do
anything with my mother; but I was mistaken: they have had a dreadful
quarrel about it, and he is going away. Mamma will never forgive me,
and I shall be worse off than ever." "No, you shall not," I replied;
"in such a point as this your mother's prohibition ought not to have
prevented your speaking to me on the subject. She has no right to
make you unhappy, and she shall NOT do it. Your applying, however, to
Reginald can be productive only of good to all parties. I believe it
is best as it is. Depend upon it that you shall not be made unhappy any
longer." At that moment how great was my astonishment at seeing Reginald
come out of Lady Susan's dressing-room. My heart misgave me instantly.
His confusion at seeing me was very evident. Fred