ie, what do you think?"

"I think that it is a lottery; but all marriages are lotteries, with
more blanks than prizes. You have done all you can to undeceive him, if
he still deceives himself. You can do no more. I will assume that he
does deceive himself, and that disappointment and irritation will be the
consequence of his discovery that you have been telling the truth. If
he is a vain man, he will not like to acknowledge to the world that he
has been his own dupe. If he is a good-hearted man, he will not long
continue angry; but, Adele, much depends upon yourself. You must
forbear all recrimination--you must exert all your talents of pleasing
to reconcile him to his disappointment; and, if you act wisely, you will
probably succeed: indeed, unless the man is a bad-hearted man, you must
eventually succeed. You best know your own powers, and must decide for
yourself."

"It is that feeling--that almost certain feeling that I shall be able to
console him for his disappointment, that impels me on. Valerie, I will
make him love me, I am determined."

"And when a woman is determined on that point, she invariably succeeds
in the end, Adele. This is supposing that he is deceiving himself,
which may not be the case, Adele, for I do think you have sufficient
attractions to make a man love you for yourself alone; and recollect
that such may be the case in the present instance. It may be that at
first he followed you as an heiress, and has since found out that if not
an heiress, you are a very charming woman, and has in consequence been
unable to resist your influence. However, there is only one to whom the
secrets of the heart are known. I consider that you have acted
honourably, and if you choose to risk the hazard of the die, no one can
attach blame to you."

"Thank you, Valerie, you have taken a great load off my heart. If you
think I am not doing wrong, I will risk every thing."

"Well, Adele, let you decide how you may, I hope you will prosper. For
my part, I would not cross the street for the best man that ever was
created. As friends, they are all very well; as advisers in some cases
they are useful; but, when you talk of marrying one, and becoming his
slave, that is quite another affair. What were you and Caroline talking
about so earnestly in the corner?"

"I will confess the truth, it was of love and marriage, with an episode
about Mr Charles Selwyn, of whom Caroline appears to have a very good
op