tended her hand to him, supposing him to have only the moment
before entered the house. Poor Delamere's hand slightly quivered as he
felt it clasping the soft lilied fingers of her whom he had thus
resolved to make his wife: what would he not have given to have carried
them to his lips! Now, if I were to say that in the course of that
evening, Miss Aubrey did not form a kind--of a sort--of a faint--notion
of the possible state of matters with young Delamere, I should not be
treating the reader with that eminent degree of candor for which I think
he, or she, is at present disposed to give me credit. But Kate was
deeply skilled in human nature, and promptly settled the matter by one
very just reflection, viz. that Delamere was, in contemplation of law, a
mere _infant_--_i. e._ he wanted yet several weeks of twenty-one! and,
therefore, that it was not likely that, &c. &c. &c. And,
besides--pooh!--pooh!--'t is a mere _boy_, at College--how
ridiculous!--So she gave herself no trouble about the affair; exhibited
no symptoms of caution or coyness, but conducted herself just as if he
had not been present.

He was a handsome young fellow, too!----

During the evening, Mr. Delamere took an opportunity of asking Miss
Aubrey who wrote the verses to which he pointed, as they lay on the
piano. The handwriting, she said, was hers, but the verses were composed
by her brother. He asked for the copy, with a slight trepidation. She
readily gave it to him--he receiving it with (as he supposed) a mighty
unconcerned air. He read it over that night, before getting into bed, at
least six times; and it was the very first thing he looked at on getting
out of bed in the morning. Now Miss Aubrey certainly wrote an elegant
hand--but as for _character_, of course it had none. He could scarcely
have distinguished it from the writing of any of his cousins or
friends;--How should he? All women are taught the same hard, angular,
uniform style--but good, bad, or indifferent, this was _Kate Aubrey's_
handwriting--and her pretty hand had rested on the paper while
writing--that was enough. He resolved to turn the verses into every kind
of Greek and Latin metre he knew of--

In short, that here was a "course of true love" _opened_, seems pretty
evident: but whether it will "run smooth" is another matter.

Their guests having at length departed, Mr. Aubrey, his wife, and
sister, soon afterwards rose to retire. He went, very sleepy, straight
to his dressin