ock herself up for ever, or do something equally
absurd.

"Then," continued Fanny,--and a deep blush covered her face as she
spoke, "I will write to Lord Ballindine, and tell him that I am still
his own if he chooses to take me."

"Oh, Fanny! do not say such a horrid thing. Write to a man, and beg him
to accept you? No, Fanny; I know you too well, at any rate, to believe
that you'll do that."

"Indeed, indeed, I will."

"Then you'll disgrace yourself for ever. Oh, Fanny! though my heart
were breaking, though I knew I were dying for very love, I'd sooner
have it break, I'd sooner die at once, than disgrace my sex by becoming
a suppliant to a man."

"Disgrace, Selina!--and am I not now disgraced? Have I not given him my
solemn word? Have I not pledged myself to him as his wife? Have I not
sworn to him a hundred times that my heart was all his own? Have I not
suffered those caresses which would have been disgraceful had I not
looked on myself as almost already his bride? And is it no disgrace,
after that, to break my word?--to throw him aside like a glove that
wouldn't fit?--to treat him as a servant that wouldn't suit me?--to
send him a contemptuous message to be gone?--and so, to forget him,
that I might lay myself out for the addresses and admiration of
another? Could any conduct be worse than that?--any disgrace deeper?
Oh, Selina! I shudder as I think of it. Could I ever bring my lips to
own affection for another, without being overwhelmed with shame and
disgrace? And then, that the world should say that I had accepted, and
rejoiced in his love when I was poor, and rejected it with scorn when I
was rich! No; I would sooner--ten thousand times sooner my uncle should
do it for me! but if he will not write to Frank, I will. And though my
hand will shake, and my face will be flushed as I do so, I shall never
think that I have disgraced myself."

"And if, Fanny--if, after that he refuses you?"

Fanny was still standing, and she remained so for a moment or two,
meditating her reply, and then she answered:--

"Should he do so, then I have the alternative which you say you would
prefer; then I will endeavour to look forward to a broken heart, and
death, without a complaint and without tears. Then, Selina," and
she tried to smile through the tears which were again running down
her cheeks, "I'll come to you, and endeavour to borrow your stoic
endurance, and patient industry;" and, as she said so, she walked to
the do