in,--those
of a youthful poet's verses, namely, read by the lips which are dearest
to him.

"Much more than ought to engage your attention, Miss Vernon," I replied,
something mortified; and I took the verses from her unreluctant hand--
"And yet," I continued, "shut up as I am in this retired situation, I
have felt sometimes I could not amuse myself better than by carrying
on--merely for my own amusement, you will of course understand--the
version of this fascinating author, which I began some months since when
I was on the banks of the Garonne."

"The question would only be," said Diana, gravely, "whether you could not
spend your time to better purpose?"

"You mean in original composition?" said I, greatly flattered--"But, to
say truth, my genius rather lies in finding words and rhymes than ideas;
and therefore I am happy to use those which Ariosto has prepared to my
hand. However, Miss Vernon, with the encouragement you give"--

"Pardon me, Frank--it is encouragement not of my giving, but of your
taking. I meant neither original composition nor translation, since I
think you might employ your time to far better purpose than in either.
You are mortified," she continued, "and I am sorry to be the cause."

"Not mortified,--certainly not mortified," said I, with the best grace I
could muster, and it was but indifferently assumed; "I am too much
obliged by the interest you take in me."

"Nay, but," resumed the relentless Diana, "there is both mortification
and a little grain of anger in that constrained tone of voice; do not be
angry if I probe your feelings to the bottom--perhaps what I am about to
say will affect them still more."

I felt the childishness of my own conduct, and the superior manliness of
Miss Vernon's, and assured her, that she need not fear my wincing under
criticism which I knew to be kindly meant.

"That was honestly meant and said," she replied; "I knew full well that
the fiend of poetical irritability flew away with the little preluding
cough which ushered in the declaration. And now I must be serious--Have
you heard from your father lately?"

"Not a word," I replied; "he has not honoured me with a single line
during the several months of my residence here."

"That is strange!--you are a singular race, you bold Osbaldistones. Then
you are not aware that he has gone to Holland, to arrange some pressing
affairs which required his own immediate presence?"

"I never heard a word of it until t