he had seen
her; and after a few meetings, made formal proposals to her father
almost ere she was aware that he admired her. Much averse to form a new
engagement, she would at once have declined receiving his addresses, had
her parents not earnestly pressed the match as one in every respect
highly eligible. Overcome at last by their importunities, and having, as
she thought, no object in existence save to give pleasure to them, she
yielded so far to their wishes as to consent to receive Mr. Beauchamp as
her future husband, on condition that he should be made acquainted with
the history of her previous engagement, and the present state of her
feelings. She secretly hoped that when he learned that she had no heart
to give with her hand, he would withdraw his suit. But she was mistaken.
Mr. Beauchamp, it is true, knew that there was such a word as _heart_,
had a notion that it was a term much in vogue with novel-writers, and
was sometimes mentioned by parsons in their sermons; but that _the
heart_ could have any thing to do with the serious affairs of life never
once entered into his head to suppose. He therefore testified as much
satisfaction at Emily's answer, as if she had avowed for him the deepest
affection. They were shortly afterwards married, and the pensive bride
accompanied her husband to her new home--Woodthorpe Hall; an ancient,
castellated edifice, situated in an extensive and finely-wooded park on
an estate in the East Riding of Yorkshire.

But I have too long neglected Philip Hayforth--too long permitted a
cloud to rest upon his honor and constancy. He was not, in truth, the
heartless, light-minded wretch that I fear you may think him. Pride,
not falsehood or levity, was the blemish in his otherwise fine
character; but it was a very plague-spot, tainting his whole moral
nature, and frequently neutralizing the effect of his best qualities. He
had been quite as much charmed with Emily's present and Emily's letter,
as she had ever ventured to hope, and had lost not a moment in writing
to her in return a long epistle full of the fervent love and gratitude
with which his heart was overflowing. He had also mentioned several
affairs of mutual interest and of a pressing nature, but about which he
was unwilling to take any steps without the concurrence of "his own
dearest and kindest Emily." He therefore entreated her to write
immediately; "to write by return of post, if she loved him." But this
letter never reached