ly by an unguarded heart; no
youthful indiscretion had marred his prospects. He had made the
most of himself. Without wit, or depth, or any mental gift--without
honesty of purpose or industry for good work--he had been for two
years sitting member for Barchester; was the guest of Lord de Courcy;
was engaged to the eldest daughter of one of the best commoners'
families in England; and was, when he first began to think of Miss
Dunstable, sanguine that his re-election to Parliament was secure.

When, however, at this period he began to calculate what his position
in the world really was, it occurred to him that he was doing an
ill-judged thing in marrying Miss Gresham. Why marry a penniless
girl--for Augusta's trifle of a fortune was not a penny in his
estimation--while there was Miss Dunstable in the world to be won?
His own six or seven thousand a year, quite unembarrassed as it was,
was certainly a great thing; but what might he not do if to that
he could add the almost fabulous wealth of the great heiress? Was
she not here, put absolutely in his path? Would it not be a wilful
throwing away of a chance not to avail himself of it? He must, to
be sure, lose the de Courcy friendship; but if he should then have
secured his Barchester seat for the usual term of parliamentary
session, he might be able to spare that. He would also, perhaps,
encounter some Gresham enmity: this was a point on which he did think
more than once: but what will not a man encounter for the sake of two
hundred thousand pounds?

It was thus that Mr Moffat argued with himself, with much prudence,
and brought himself to resolve that he would at any rate become a
candidate for the great prize. He also, therefore, began to say
soft things; and it must be admitted that he said them with more
considerate propriety than had the Honourable George. Mr Moffat had
an idea that Miss Dunstable was not a fool, and that in order to
catch her he must do more than endeavour to lay salt on her tail,
in the guise of flattery. It was evident to him that she was a bird
of some cunning, not to be caught by an ordinary gin, such as those
commonly in use with the Honourable Georges of Society.

It seemed to Mr Moffat, that though Miss Dunstable was so sprightly,
so full of fun, and so ready to chatter on all subjects, she well
knew the value of her own money, and of her position as dependent on
it: he perceived that she never flattered the countess, and seemed
to be no wh