said George, would give him a greater delight, than to be able
to help his brother, and the more so, as, by his sudden return into
life, as it were, he had deprived Harry of an inheritance which he had
legitimately considered as his own. Labouring under that misconception,
Harry had indulged in greater expenses than he ever would have thought
of incurring as a younger brother; and George thought it was but fair,
and as it were, as a thank-offering for his own deliverance, that he
should contribute liberally to any scheme for his brother's advantage.

And now, having concluded his statement respecting Harry's affairs,
George took occasion to speak of his own, and addressed his honoured
mother on a point which very deeply concerned himself. She was aware
that the best friends he and his brother had found in England were the
good Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, the latter Madam Esmond's schoolfellow of
earlier years. Where their own blood relations had been worldly and
unfeeling, these true friends had ever been generous and kind. The
General was respected by the whole army, and beloved by all who knew
him. No mother's affection could have been more touching than Mrs.
Lambert's for both Madam Esmond's children; and now, wrote Mr. George,
he himself had formed an attachment for the elder Miss Lambert, on which
he thought the happiness of his life depended, and which he besought his
honoured mother to approve. He had made no precise offers to the young
lady or her parents; but he was bound to say that he had made little
disguise of his sentiments, and that the young lady, as well as her
parents, seemed favourable to him. She had been so admirable and
exemplary a daughter to her own mother, that he felt sure she would do
her duty by his. In a word, Mr. Warrington described the young lady as a
model of perfection, and expressed his firm belief that the happiness
or misery of his own future life depended upon possessing or losing her.
Why do you not produce this letter? haply asks some sentimental reader,
of the present Editor, who has said how he has the whole Warrington
correspondence in his hands. Why not? Because 'tis cruel to babble the
secrets of a young man's love; to overhear his incoherent vows and
wild raptures, and to note, in cold blood, the secrets--it may be,
the follies--of his passion. Shall we play eavesdropper at twilight
embrasures, count sighs and hand-shakes, bottle hot tears: lay our
stethoscope on delicate young bre