ppeared upon the next day at dinner. His manners, though not so
coarse as I had expected, were exceedingly disagreeable; there was an
assurance and a forwardness for which I was not prepared; there was
less of the vulgarity of manner, and almost more of that of the mind,
than I had anticipated. I felt quite uncomfortable in his presence;
there was just that confidence in his look and tone, which would read
encouragement even in mere toleration; and I felt more disgusted and
annoyed at the coarse and extravagant compliments which he was pleased
from time to time to pay me, than perhaps the extent of the atrocity
might fully have warranted. It was, however, one consolation that he
did not often appear, being much engrossed by pursuits about which
I neither knew nor cared anything; but when he did, his attentions,
either with a view to his amusement, or to some more serious object,
were so obviously and perseveringly directed to me, that young and
inexperienced as I was, even _I_ could not be ignorant of their
significance. I felt more provoked by this odious persecution than I
can express, and discouraged him with so much vigour, that I did
not stop even at rudeness to convince him that his assiduities were
unwelcome; but all in vain.

This had gone on for nearly a twelvemonth, to my infinite annoyance,
when one day, as I was sitting at some needlework with my companion,
Emily, as was my habit, in the parlour, the door opened, and my cousin
Edward entered the room. There was something, I thought, odd in his
manner, a kind of struggle between shame and impudence, a kind of
flurry and ambiguity, which made him appear, if possible, more than
ordinarily disagreeable.

"Your servant, ladies," he said, seating himself at the same time;
"sorry to spoil your _tete-a-tete_; but never mind, I'll only take
Emily's place for a minute or two, and then we part for a while, fair
cousin. Emily, my father wants you in the corner turret; no shilly,
shally, he's in a hurry." She hesitated. "Be off--tramp, march, I
say," he exclaimed, in a tone which the poor girl dared not disobey.

She left the room, and Edward followed her to the door. He stood there
for a minute or two, as if reflecting what he should say, perhaps
satisfying himself that no one was within hearing in the hall. At
length he turned about, having closed the door, as if carelessly, with
his foot, and advancing slowly, in deep thought, he took his seat at
the side of the ta