ed on that young man--"

"Where are we going, George? What river is this?" exclaimed she,
suddenly.

"To Tilney Park, ma'am; this is the Larne."

"But it's the upper road, and I told you to take the lower road, by
Captain Graham's."

"No, ma'am; you only said Tilney."

"Is it possible? and did n't you tell him, Mr. Maitland?"

"I? I knew nothing of the road. To tell you the truth," added he, in
a whisper, "I cared very little where it led, so long as I sat at your
side."

"Very flattering, indeed! Have we passed the turn to the lower road very
far, George?"

"Yes, ma'am; it's a good five miles behind us, and a bad bit of road
too,--all fresh stones."

"And you were so anxious to call at the cottage?" said she, addressing
Maitland, with a smile of some significance.

"Nothing of the kind. I made some sort of silly promise to make a visit
as I passed. I 'm sure I don't know why, or to gratify whom."

"Oh, cruel Mr. Maitland, false Mr. Maitland I how can you say this?
But are we to go back?--that is the question; for I see George is very
impatient, and trying to make the horses the same."

"Of course not. Go back! it was all the coachman's fault,--took the
wrong turning, and never discovered his blunder till we were--I don't
know where."

"Tilney, George,--go on," said she; then turning to Maitland, "and do
you imagine that the charming Sally Graham or the fascinating Rebecca
will understand such flimsy excuses as these, or that the sturdy old
Commodore will put up with them?"

"I hope so, for their sakes at least; for it will save them a world of
trouble to do so."

"Ungrateful as well as perfidious! You were a great favorite with the
Grahams. Beck told me, the night before they left the Abbey, that you
were the only _elegant_--exquisite she called it--she ever met that was
n't a fool."

"The praise was not extravagant. I don't feel my cheek growing hot under
it."

"And Sally said that if she had not seen with her own eyes, she'd never
have believed that a man with such a diamond ring, and such wonderful
pendants to his watch, could hook an eight-pound salmon, and bring him
to land."

"That indeed touches me," said he, laying his hand over his heart.

"And old Graham himself declared to my father that if one of his girls
had a fancy that way, though you were n't exactly his style of man, nor
precisely what he 'd choose--"

"Do spare me. I beseech you, have _some_ pity on me."

"That he'd not