fused Edward. It is strange enough that you should not have
mentioned this circumstance, if not to me, at least to Mrs.
Middleton, who, certainly, deserved your confidence; but I
suppose you felt ashamed, and so you ought to be; for, after
all the encouragement you gave Edward, after speaking,
looking, and acting as you did during the month that he spent
at Elmsley, none but a heartless flirt could have refused
him." Weakened and agitated by the scenes I had gone through
during the last twenty-four hours, I burst into tears at this
harsh reproof. Mr. Middleton hated seeing a woman cry, and
still more making her cry; but as he had made up his mind to
treat me with great severity, my tears, by annoying him
excessively, only added to his anger.

"I must also tell you, Ellen," he continued, "that I am
shocked and disgusted at the manner in which you allow Henry
Lovell to dance with you, and talk to you wherever you meet
him. You sanction in this way his neglect of his wife; and,
considering all the circumstances of the case, your conduct,
in that respect, is unjustifiable. Pray, may I ask if he was
at home during the four hours you have just passed in his
house?" I coloured violently, and muttered that he was, but
added, "Did not my aunt tell you that Alice had sent for me?"

"She told me," replied Mr. Middleton, "that _Henry_ had
requested one of you to go to her. She ought to have gone
herself; but, considering how little in general you seek Mrs.
Lovell's society, and that for days together you do not go
near her, I should have thought that a shorter visit might
have sufficed. But be that as it may, I positively declare to
you, that unless there is an immediate change in your whole
manner and way of going on, I shall forbid Henry my house, and
lay my strictest orders upon you not to go to his. This may
painfully enlighten Mrs. Lovell," he continued, "but it will
be better for her to be thus enlightened, than for a coquette
like you to be allowed to rob her of the affection of her
husband."

"This is unjust, this is cruel," I exclaimed; "Alice herself
is not more pure than I am from an indelicate thought, or an
evil design. You wrong me; I do not deserve such language; and
even from you I will not endure it. Forgive me, dearest uncle,
forgive me; but indeed you do me a grievous injustice." I
seized his hand and pressed it to my lips.

"Why did you refuse Edward?" asked my uncle, in a softened
tone.

"Because I d