hrubbery." He was utterly ignorant of his having
been seen in his drunkenness by Mrs Franklin and her daughter, and was
scrupulously sober on the present occasion, and full of good
resolutions, as habitual drunkards very commonly are after an outbreak
of more than usual violence. He was quite convinced--at least he was
enjoying a good deal of cheerful self-congratulation on the supposed
conviction--that he never would exceed again; so in the strength of this
conviction, he entered the room where Mary and her mother were sitting,
with a confident step, though he could not quite keep down every feeling
of misgiving. Still, it never occurred to him that Mary could possibly
refuse him. He had too high an opinion of himself: he was such a
general favourite and so popular, that he felt sure any young lady of
his acquaintance would esteem herself honoured by the offer of his hand.
He was well aware, it is true, that Mary had a horror of drunkenness;
but he flattered himself, first, that he could persuade her that he
meant to be sober for the future, and a total abstainer too if she
required it; and then, that he had got a sufficient hold upon her heart,
or at any rate regard, to make her willing to accept him without any
stipulations rather than lose him. Strong in these impressions, he had
now come over to make a formal proposal. The manner, however, of mother
and daughter disturbed him; something he saw was amiss; there was a
sadness and constraint in the words of both which distressed and
embarrassed him. After a brief conversation on commonplace topics Mary
rose hastily and left the room. Mark hesitated, but feeling that he
must seize the opportunity, he at once asked Mrs Franklin's permission
to avow his attachment to her daughter.

A long and painful pause: broken, at last, by Mrs Franklin's reply,
that she could not advise her daughter to encourage his addresses.

Mark was thunderstruck! For several minutes surprise and mortification
kept him silent. At last he exclaimed:

"But what does Mary wish herself? We've known each other so long; she
knows I love her, she must know it. I'm sure she would not refuse me;
may I not see her? May I not have `yes,' or `no,' from her own lips?"

"I will ask her," was the reply; and poor Mark was left for half an hour
to his own not very agreeable reflections. At the end of that time Mrs
Franklin returned, with a sealed letter in her hand.

"Mary does not feel equal to