he remedy which he had selected to dispel his care, and
fill up the vacuum created by the absence of his darling child.

"Newton," said he, one evening, as they discussed a bottle of port,
"have you considered what I proposed? I confess to you that I am more
than ever anxious for the match; I cannot part with that dear child, and
you can bring her back to me."

"I have reflected, sir; but the case must be viewed in a very different
light. You might affiance your adopted daughter at her early age, but
the Marquis de Fontanges may not be so inclined; nay, further, sir, it
is not impossible that he may dislike the proposed match. He is of a
very noble family."

"I have thought on that subject," replied Mr John Forster; "but our
family is as well descended, and quite well enough for any Frenchman,
let him be a marquis, or even a duke. Is that the only obstacle you
intend to raise--or, if this is removed, will you again plead your
attachment to another?"

"It is the only one which I mean to raise at present, sir. I
acknowledge Julie de Fontanges to be a sweet girl, and, as a relation, I
have long been much attached to her."

"Humph!" replied the old lawyer, "I always thought you a sensible lad--
we shall see."

Now, be it observed, that there was a certain degree of the jesuitical
on the part of our friend Newton on this occasion, excusable only from
his wish that the mortification of his uncle at the disappointment of
his hopes should not be occasioned by any further resistance on his
part.

To Monsieur de Fontanges, who was aware of Newton's attachment to
Isabel, he had, previous to the discovery which had taken place,
communicated the obstacle to his union, raised by the pertinacity of his
uncle. After the removal of Julie, Monsieur de Fontanges acquainted his
brother with the wishes of Mr John Forster, and explained to him how
much they were at variance with those of Newton.

The first time that Newton called upon the marquis, the latter shaking
him warmly by the hand, said,--"I have been informed, my dear Newton, by
my brother, of the awkward predicament in which you are placed by the
wish of your uncle that you should marry my Julie when she grows up.
Believe me, when I say it, there is no man to whom I would sooner
confide the happiness of my daughter, and that no consideration would
induce me to refuse you, if you really sought her hand; but I know your
wishes, and your attachment to Miss Revel, there