azlewood was powerful, wealthy,
ambitious, and vindictive, and looked for both fortune and title in any
connexion which his son might form. At length, having the highest opinion
of his guest's good sense and penetration, he determined to take an
opportunity, when they should happen to be alone, to communicate the
matter to her as a simple piece of intelligence. He did so in as natural
a manner as he could. 'I wish you joy of your friend Mr. Sampson's good
fortune, Miss Bertram; he has got a pupil who pays him two guineas for
twelve lessons of Greek and Latin.'

'Indeed! I am equally happy and surprised. Who can be so liberal? is
Colonel Mannering returned?'

'No, no, not Colonel Mannering; but what do you think of your
acquaintance, Mr. Charles Hazlewood? He talks of taking his lessons here;
I wish we may have accommodation for him.'

Lucy blushed deeply. 'For Heaven's sake, no, Mr. Mac-Morlan, do not let
that be; Charles Hazlewood has had enough of mischief about that
already.'

'About the classics, my dear young lady?' wilfully seeming to
misunderstand her; 'most young gentlemen have so at one period or
another, sure enough; but his present studies are voluntary.'

Miss Bertram let the conversation drop, and her host made no effort to
renew it, as she seemed to pause upon the intelligence in order to form
some internal resolution.

The next day Miss Bertram took an opportunity of conversing with Mr.
Sampson. Expressing in the kindest manner her grateful thanks for his
disinterested attachment, and her joy that he had got such a provision,
she hinted to him that his present mode of superintending Charles
Hazlewood's studies must be so inconvenient to his pupil that, while that
engagement lasted, he had better consent to a temporary separation, and
reside either with his scholar or as near him as might be. Sampson
refused, as indeed she had expected, to listen a moment to this
proposition; he would not quit her to be made preceptor to the Prince of
Wales. 'But I see,' he added, 'you are too proud to share my pittance;
and peradventure I grow wearisome unto you.'

'No indeed; you were my father's ancient, almost his only, friend. I am
not proud; God knows, I have no reason to be so. You shall do what you
judge best in other matters; but oblige me by telling Mr. Charles
Hazlewood that you had some conversation with me concerning his studies,
and that I was of opinion that his carrying them on in this house was
al