ich love alone could have
rendered him insensible to her attachment; that he, nevertheless, should
always recall her memory with equal interest and admiration; and then,
with a tact of flattery which the nature of the correspondence and the
sex of the person addressed rendered excusable, he endeavoured, as far
as he was able, to soothe and please the vanity which the candour of his
avowal was calculated to wound.

When he had finished this letter he despatched another to Lord Aspeden,
claiming a reprieve of some days before he answered the proposal of the
diplomatist. After these epistolary efforts, he summoned his valet, and
told him, apparently in a careless tone, to find out if Lady Westborough
was still in town. Then throwing himself on the couch, he wrestled with
the grief and melancholy which the death of a friend, and more than
a father, might well cause in a mind less susceptible than his, and
counted the dull hours crawl onward till his servant returned. Lady
Westborough and all the family had been gone a week to their seat in
----.

"Well," thought Clarence, "had he been alive, I could have intrusted
my cause to a mediator; as it is, I will plead, or rather assert it,
myself. Harrison," said he aloud, "see that my black mare is ready by
sunrise to-morrow: I shall leave town for some days."

"Not in your present state of health, sir, surely?" said Harrison, with
the license of one who had been a nurse.

"My health requires it: no more words, my good Harrison, see that I am
obeyed." And Harrison, shaking his head doubtfully, left the room.

"Rich, independent, free to aspire to the heights which in England are
only accessible to those who join wealth to ambition, I have at least,"
said Clarence, proudly, "no unworthy pretensions even to the hand of
Lady Flora Ardenne. If she can love me for myself, if she can trust to
my honour, rely on my love, feel proud in my pride, and aspiring in
my ambition, then, indeed, this wealth will be welcome to me, and the
disguised name which has cost me so many mortifications become grateful,
since she will not disdain to share it."

CHAPTER LI.

A little druid wight
Of withered aspect; but his eye was keen
With sweetness mixed,--a russet brown bedight.
THOMSON: Castle of Indolence.

Thus holding high discourse, they came to where
The cursed carle was at his wonted trade,
Still tempting heedless men into his snare,
In witchin