the lips of
such a man. Emily looked at me with pleasure, as if she had said, Do you
hear, madam, what a fine thing my guardian has said of me?

Sir Charles asked Mr. Beauchamp, how he stood with my Lady Beauchamp?

Very well, answered he. After such an introduction as you had given me
to her, I must have been to blame, had I not. She is my father's wife: I
must respect her, were she ever so unkind to me: she is not without good
qualities. Were every family so happy as to have Sir Charles Grandison
for a mediator when misunderstandings happened, there would be very few
lasting differences among relations. My father and mother tell me, that
they never sit down to table together, but they bless you: and to me they
have talked of nobody else: but Lady Beauchamp depends upon your promise
of making her acquainted with the ladies of your family.

My sisters, and their lords, will do honour to my promise in my absence.
Lady L----, Lady G----, let me recommend to you Lady Beauchamp as more
than a common visiting acquaintance. Do you, sir, to Mr. Beauchamp, see
it cultivated.

Mr. Beauchamp is an agreeable, and, when Sir Charles Grandison is not in
company, a handsome and genteel man. I think, my dear, that I do but the
same justice that every body would do, in this exception. He is
cheerful, lively, yet modest, and not too full of words. One sees both
love and respect in every look he casts upon his friend; and that he is
delighted when he hears him speak, be the subject what it will.

He once said to Lord W----, who praised his nephew to him, as he does to
everybody near him; The universal voice, my lord, is in his favour
wherever he goes. Every one joins almost in the same words, in different
countries, allowing for the different languages, that for sweetness of
manners, and manly dignity, he hardly ever had his equal.

Sir Charles was then engaged in talk with his Emily; she before him; he
standing in an easy genteel attitude, leaning against the wainscot,
listening, smiling, to her prattle, with looks of indulgent love, as a
father might do to a child he was fond of; while she looked back every
now and then towards me, so proud, poor dear! of being singled out by her
guardian.

She tript to me afterwards, and, leaning over my shoulder, as I sat,
whispered--I have been begging of my guardian to use his interest with
you, madam, to take me down with you to Northamptonshire.

And what is the result?

She paused.

H