ited the
conclusion of Mrs. Coleman's rambling account. After a great deal
of circumlocution, of which I will mercifully spare the reader the
infliction, the following facts were elicited:--About an hour before
our arrival, Mr. Vernor, accompanied by his ward, had called to see Mr.
Coleman, and, finding he was from home, had asked for a few minutes'
conversation with the lady of the house. His reason for so doing soon
appeared; he had received letters requiring his immediate presence in
London on business, which might probably detain him for a day or two;
and not liking to leave Miss Saville quite alone, he had called with the
intention of begging Mrs. Coleman to allow her niece, Lucy Markham, to
stay with her friend at Barstone Priory till his return, and to save her
from the horrors of solitude. This plan being rendered impracticable by
reason of Lucy's absence.

~255~~ Mrs. Coleman proposed that Miss Saville should remain with
her till Mr. Vernor's return, which, she added, would be conferring a
benefit on her, as her husband and son being both from home, she
was sadly dull without a companion. This plan having removed all
difficulties, Mr. Vernor proceeded on his journey without further delay.
Good Mrs. Coleman's agitation on our arrival bad been produced by the
consciousness that Mr. Vernor would by no means approve of the addition
of two dangerous young men to the party; however, Freddy consoled her
by the ingenious sophism that it was much better for us to have
arrived together than for him to have returned alone, as we should
now neutralise each other's attractions; and, while the young lady's
pleasure in our society would be doubled, she would be effectually
guarded against falling in love with either of us, by reason of the
impossibility of her overlooking the equal merits of what Mrs. Coleman
would probably have termed "the survivor ". Having settled this knotty
point to his own satisfaction, and perplexed his mother into the belief
that our arrival was rather a fortunate circumstance than otherwise,
Freddy despatched her to break the glorious tidings, as he called it, to
the young lady, cautioning her to do so carefully, and by degrees, for
that joy was very often quite as dangerous in its effects as sorrow.

Having closed the door after her, he relieved his feelings by a slight
extempore hornpipe, and then slapping me on the back, exclaimed, "Here's
a transcendent go! if this ain't taking the change out of