Impossible that we can stay for the pic-nic. We are known, dear. Think
of my position one day in this house! Particulars when I embrace you.
I dare not trust a letter here. If Evan had confided in me! He is
impenetrable. He will be low all his life, and I refuse any more
to sully myself in attempting to lift him. For Silva's sake I must
positively break the connection. Heaven knows what I have done for this
boy, and will support me in the feeling that I have done enough. My
conscience at least is safe.'

Like many illustrious Generals, the Countess had, for the hour, lost
heart. We find her, however, the next day, writing:

'Oh! Harriet! what trials for sisterly affection! Can I
possibly--weather the gale, as the old L---- sailors used to say? It
is dreadful. I fear I am by duty bound to stop on. Little Bonner thinks
Evan quite a duke's son, has been speaking to her Grandmama, and
to-day, this morning, the venerable old lady quite as much as gave me to
understand that an union between our brother and her son's child would
sweetly gratify her, and help her to go to her rest in peace. Can I
chase that spark of comfort from one so truly pious? Dearest Juliana! I
have anticipated Evan's feeling for her, and so she thinks his conduct
cold. Indeed, I told her, point blank, he loved her. That, you know, is
different from saying, dying of love, which would have been an untruth.
But, Evan, of course! No getting him! Should Juliana ever reproach me,
I can assure the child that any man is in love with any woman--which
is really the case. It is, you dear humdrum! what the dictionary calls
"nascent." I never liked the word, but it stands for a fact.'

The Countess here exhibits the weakness of a self-educated intelligence.
She does not comprehend the joys of scholarship in her employment of
Latinisms. It will be pardoned to her by those who perceive the profound
piece of feminine discernment which precedes it.

'I do think I shall now have courage to stay out the pic-nic,' she
continues. 'I really do not think all is known. Very little can be
known, or I am sure I could not feel as I do. It would burn me up.
George Up---does not dare; and his most beautiful lady-love had far
better not. Mr. Forth may repent his whispers. But, Oh! what Evan may
do! Rose is almost detestable. Manners, my dear? Totally deficient!

'An ally has just come. Evan's good fortune is most miraculous. His low
friend turns out to be a young Fortunatus; very