ion of sentiment and disinterestedness sits very prettily on
the heiress of Ditton-in-the-Dale, Long Netherby, and Waltham Ferrers,
three manors, and ten thousand pounds a year to buy a bridegroom! Poor
I, with my face for my fortune, must needs make my wit eke out my want
of dowry. And I'm not one, I promise you, siss, to choose love in a
cottage. No, no! Give me your Lord St. George, and I'll make over all
my right and title to poor George Delawarr this minute. Heigho! I
believe the fellow is smitten with me after all. Well, well! I'll have
some fun with him before I have done yet."

"Agnes," said Blanche, gravely, but reproachfully, "I have long seen
that you are light, and careless whom you wound with your wild words,
but I never thought before that you were bad-hearted."

"Bad-hearted, sister!"

"Yes! bad-hearted! To speak to me of manors, or of money, as if for
fifty wills, or five hundred fathers, I would ever profit by a
parent's whim to rob my sister of her portion. As if I would not
rather lie in the cold grave, than that my sister should have a wish
ungratified, which I had power to gratify, much less that she should
narrow down the standard of her choice--the holiest and most sacred
thing on earth--to the miserable scale of wealth and title. Out upon
it! out upon it! Never, while you live, speak so to me again!"

"Sister, I never will. I did not mean it, sister, dear," cried Agnes,
now much affected, as she saw how vehemently Blanche was moved. "You
should not heed me. You know my wild, rash way, and how I speak
whatever words come first."

"Those were very meaning words, Agnes--and very bitter, too. They cut
me to the heart," cried the fair girl, bursting into a flood of
passionate tears.

"Oh! do not--do not, Blanche. Forgive me, dearest! Indeed, indeed, I
meant nothing!"

"Forgive you, Agnes! I have nothing to forgive. I was not even angry,
but pained, but sorry for you, sister; for sure I am, that if you give
way to this bitter, jealous spirit, you will work much anguish to
yourself, and to all those who love you."

"Jealous, Blanche!"

"Yes, Agnes, jealous! But let us say no more. Let this pass, and be
forgotten; but never, dear girl, if you love me, as I think you do,
never _so_ speak to me again."

"I never, never will." And she fell upon her neck, and kissed her
fondly, as her heart relented, and she felt something of sincere
repentance for the harsh words which she had spoken, and the h