ecret reasons for what they advised; but, for
her part, she wished such to stay away from her house for the
future.--'Madam,' cried Burchell, with looks of great composure, which
tended to enflame her the more, 'as for secret reasons, you are right:
I have secret reasons, which I forbear to mention, because you are not
able to answer those of which I make no secret: but I find my visits
here are become troublesome; I'll take my leave therefore now, and
perhaps come once more to take a final farewell when I am quitting the
country.' Thus saying, he took up his hat, nor could the attempts of
Sophia, whose looks seemed to upbraid his precipitancy, prevent his
going.

When gone, we all regarded each other for some minutes with confusion.
My wife, who knew herself to be the cause, strove to hide her concern
with a forced smile, and an air of assurance, which I was willing to
reprove: 'How, woman,' cried I to her, 'is it thus we treat strangers?
Is it thus we return their kindness? Be assured, my dear, that these
were the harshest words, and to me the most unpleasing that ever escaped
your lips!'--'Why would he provoke me then,' replied she; 'but I know
the motives of his advice perfectly well. He would prevent my girls from
going to town, that he may have the pleasure of my youngest daughter's
company here at home. But whatever happens, she shall chuse better
company than such low-lived fellows as he.'--'Low-lived, my dear, do
you call him,' cried I, 'it is very possible we may mistake this man's
character: for he seems upon some occasions the most finished gentleman
I ever knew.--Tell me, Sophia, my girl, has he ever given you any secret
instances of his attachment?'--'His conversation with me, sir,' replied
my daughter, 'has ever been sensible, modest, and pleasing. As to aught
else, no, never. Once, indeed, I remember to have heard him say he never
knew a woman who could find merit in a man that seemed poor.' 'Such, my
dear,' cried I, 'is the common cant of all the unfortunate or idle. But
I hope you have been taught to judge properly of such men, and that it
would be even madness to expect happiness from one who has been so
very bad an oeconomist of his own. Your mother and I have now better
prospects for you. The next winter, which you will probably spend in
town, will give you opportunities of making a more prudent choice.'
What Sophia's reflections were upon this occasion, I can't pretend to
determine; but I was not d