, I see _now_ what you are
at; your Lordship can never suppose me _such_ a fool as to--

Fool!--My supposition, _Edmund_, pronounces you a man of sense; but you
mistake my meaning.

I do not mistake, my Lord; surely it must be the height of folly to lift
my thoughts to Miss Warley. Suppose my father can give me a few
thousands,--are these sufficient to purchase beauty, good sense, with
every accomplishment?--No, no, my Lord, I am not such a vain
fellow;--Miss Warley was never born for _Edmund Jenkings_--She told me
_so_, the first moment I beheld her.

_Told you so?_ what then, you have made pretensions to her, and she told
you _so?_

Yes, my Lord, she told, me _so_.--That is, her _eyes_, her whole
graceful _form_, spoke it.--Was I a man of family,--a man of title, with
a proper knowledge of the world,--I would not deliberate a moment.

How comes it then, Edmund, that you are so assiduous to oblige her?--You
would not run and fly for every young lady.--

True, my Lord, it is not every one would repay me with smiles of
condescension. Suffer me to assure your Lordship, when I can oblige Miss
Warley, my ambition is gratified.--Never, _never_ shall a more
presumptuous wish intrude to make me less worthy of the honour I receive
from your Lordship's notice.--

This he spoke with energy;--such energy,--as if he had come at the book
of my heart, and was reading its contents. I knew his regard for my dear
amiable girl, and the danger of betraying my secret, or should have
treated him with unbounded confidence:--I therefore only applauded his
sentiments;--told him a man who could think thus nobly,--honour'd me in
his friendship;--that mine to him should be unalterable; call'd him
brother; and by the joyful perturbations of my soul, I fear I gave him
some idea of what I strove to hide.

The curtain of night was dropping by slow degrees, when a distant sound
of wheels interrupted our conversation.--We stood listening a moment, as
it approach'd nearer. Edmund cry'd out,--They are come; I hear,
Caesar's voice; and, taking a hearty leave, ran home to receive them.--I
directed my course towards the Abbey, in hopes the chaise had proceeded
thither, and found I had steer'd right, seeing it stand at the entrance.

Mr. Jenkings did not get out; Lady Powis refused to part with Miss
Warley this night. Whilst I write, I hope she is enjoying a sweet
refreshing sleep. O! Molesworth! could I flatter myself she dreams of
me!--

To-mo