n either, unless I am at the same
time well assured of their authenticity."

"I cannot blame you for your being hard of faith, my lord," said Jekyl;
"but still I think if you can cut out with your earldom, and your noble
hereditary estate, I would, in your case, pitch Nettlewood to the
devil."

"Yes, as you pitched your own patrimony, Jekyl; but you took care to
have the spending of it first.--What would _you_ give for such an
opportunity of piecing your fortunes by marriage?--Confess the truth."

"I might be tempted, perhaps," said Jekyl, "in my present circumstances;
but if they were what they have been, I should despise an estate that
was to be held by petticoat tenure, especially when the lady of the
manor was a sickly fantastic girl, that hated me, as this Miss Mowbray
has the bad taste to hate you."

"Umph--sickly?--no, no, she is not sickly--she is as healthy as any one
in constitution--and, on my word, I think her paleness only renders her
more interesting. The last time I saw her, I thought she might have
rivalled one of Canova's finest statues."

"Yes; but she is indifferent to you--you do not love her," said Jekyl.

"She is any thing but indifferent to me," said the Earl; "she becomes
daily more interesting--for her dislike piques me; and besides, she has
the insolence openly to defy and contemn me before her brother, and in
the eyes of all the world. I have a kind of loving hatred--a sort of
hating love for her; in short, thinking upon her is like trying to read
a riddle, and makes one make quite as many blunders, and talk just as
much nonsense. If ever I have the opportunity, I will make her pay for
all her airs."

"What airs?" said Jekyl.

"Nay, the devil may describe them, for I cannot; but, for example--Since
her brother has insisted on her receiving me, or I should rather say on
her appearing when I visit Shaws-Castle, one would think her invention
has toiled in discovering different ways of showing want of respect to
me, and dislike to my presence. Instead of dressing herself as a lady
should, especially on such occasions, she chooses some fantastic, or
old-fashioned, or negligent bedizening, which makes her at least look
odd, if it cannot make her ridiculous--such triple tiaras of
various-coloured gauze on her head--such pieces of old tapestry, I
think, instead of shawls and pelisses--such thick-soled shoes--such
tan-leather gloves--mercy upon us, Hal, the very sight of her equipment
would d