gether a free agent."

"No, indeed," replied she, eagerly catching at the idea, "Mr. Vernor,
my guardian--he always means to be very kind I am sure; but," she added,
sinking her voice, "he is so very particular, and he speaks so sternly
sometimes, that--I know it is very silly--but I cannot help feeling
afraid of him. I mention this, sir, to prevent your judging me too
harshly, and I trust to your generosity not to take any unfair advantage
of my openness; and now," she added, fixing her large eyes upon me with
an imploring look which would have melted the toughest old anchorite
~153~~that ever chewed grey peas, "you will not think me so very
ungrateful, will you?"

"My dear Miss Saville," replied I, "let me beg you to believe I never
dreamt of blaming you for a moment; on the contrary, I pay you no
compliment, but only mention the simple truth, when I tell you that I
admired your behaviour throughout the whole affair exceedingly;
your presence of mind and self-control were greater than, under the
circumstances, I could have supposed possible." As she made no reply
to this, but remained looking steadfastly on the ground, with her head
turned so as to conceal her face, I continued--"I hope it is unnecessary
for me to add, that you need not entertain the slightest fear of my
making any indiscreet use of the frankness with which you have done me
the honour of speaking to me--but I am forgetting half my business,"
added I, wishing to set her at ease again, "I am charged with all sorts
of kind messages to you from good Mrs. Coleman and Miss Markham; I
presume you would wish me to tell them I have had the pleasure of
ascertaining that you have sustained no ill effects from your alarm."

"Oh yes, by all means," replied Miss Saville, looking up with a pleased
expression, "give my kind love to them both, and tell dear Lucy I shall
come over to see her as soon as ever I can."

"I will not intrude upon you longer, then, having delivered my message,"
said I; "I have kept my companion, the gentleman who was so unfortunate
as to overturn the candelabrum, waiting an unconscionable time already;
he is very penitent for his offence; may I venture to relieve his mind
by telling him that you forgive him?"

"Pray do so," was the reply; "I never bear malice; besides, it was
entirely an accident, you know. How thoroughly wretched he seemed when
he found what he had done; frightened as I was, I could scarcely help
laughing when I caught