y first resolve; but alas! if I had not courage to sustain
a common interview, to meet her in the careless crowd of a drawing-room,
what could I do under circumstances like these? Besides, the matter would
be cut very short by her coolly declaring that she had neither right nor
inclination to listen to such a declaration. The recollection of her look
as she passed me to her carriage came flashing across my brain and decided
this point. No, no! I'll not encounter that; however appearances for the
moment had been against me, she should not have treated me thus coldly and
disdainfully. It was quite clear she had never cared for me,--wounded pride
had been her only feeling; and so as I reasoned I ended by satisfying
myself that in that quarter all was at end forever.

Now then for dilemma number two, I thought. The senhora, my first impulse
was one of anything but gratitude to her by whose kind, tender care my
hours of pain and suffering had been soothed and alleviated. But for her,
I should have been spared all my present embarrassment, all my shipwrecked
fortunes; but for her I should now be the aide-de-camp residing in Sir
George Dashwood's own house, meeting with Lucy every hour of the day,
dining beside her, riding out with her, pressing my suit by every means and
with every advantage of my position; but for her and her dark eyes--and,
by-the-bye, what eyes they are! how full of brilliancy, yet how teeming
with an expression of soft and melting sweetness; and her mouth, too,
how perfectly chiselled those full lips,--how different from the cold,
unbending firmness of Miss Dashwood's! Not but I have seen Lucy smile too,
and what a sweet smile! How it lighted up her fair cheek, and made her blue
eyes darken and deepen till they looked like heaven's own vault. Yes, there
is more poetry in a blue eye. But still Inez is a very lovely girl, and
her foot never was surpassed. She is a coquette, too, about that foot and
ankle,--I rather like a woman to be so. What a sensation she would make in
England; how she would be the rage! And then I thought of home and Galway,
and the astonishment of some, the admiration of others, as I presented her
as my wife,--the congratulations of my friends, the wonder of the men, the
tempered envy of the women. Methought I saw my uncle, as he pressed her in
his arms, say, "Yes, Charley, this is a prize worth campaigning for."

The stray sounds of a guitar which came from the garden broke in upon my