ch. And there
is Sir Miles's valet gone to the rectory, and the fat footman puffing
away towards the village, and I, like a faithful warden, from my post at
the castle, all looking out for the truant."

"But who wants me, cousin?" said Lucretia, with the full blaze of her
rare and captivating smile.

"The knight of Laughton confessedly wants thee, O damsel! The knight of
the Bleeding Heart may want thee more,--dare he own it?"

And with a hand that trembled a little, not with love, at least, it
trembled always a little before the Madeira at luncheon,--he lifted hers
to his lips.

"Compliments again,--words, idle words!" said Lucretia, looking down
bashfully.

"How can I convince thee of my sincerity, unless thou takest my life as
its pledge, maid of Laughton?"

And very much tired of standing, Charley Vernon drew her gently to
the bench and seated himself by her side. Lucretia's eyes were still
downcast, and she remained silent; Vernon, suppressing a yawn, felt
that he was bound to continue. There was nothing very formidable in
Lucretia's manner.

"'Fore Gad!" thought he, "I suppose I must take the heiress after all;
the sooner 't is over, the sooner I can get back to Brook Street."

"It is premature, my fair cousin," said he, aloud,--"premature, after
less than a week's visit, and only some fourteen or fifteen hours'
permitted friendship and intimacy, to say what is uppermost in my
thoughts; but we spendthrifts are provokingly handsome! Sir Miles, your
good uncle, is pleased to forgive all my follies and faults upon one
condition,--that you will take on yourself the task to reform me. Will
you, my fair cousin? Such as I am, you behold me. I am no sinner in the
disguise of a saint. My fortune is spent, my health is not strong; but
a young widow's is no mournful position. I am gay when I am well,
good-tempered when ailing. I never betrayed a trust,--can you trust me
with yourself?"

This was a long speech, and Charley Vernon felt pleased that it was
over. There was much in it that would have touched a heart even closed
to him, and a little genuine emotion had given light to his eyes, and
color to his cheek. Amidst all the ravages of dissipation, there was
something interesting in his countenance, and manly in his tone and
his gesture. But Lucretia was only sensible to one part of his
confession,--her uncle consented to his suit. This was all of which
she desired to be assured, and against this she now sought