y should partake the
hospitalities of Ditton, at least as temporary residents.

The night was already closing in when they mounted their horses and
withdrew, both well pleased with their visit--for the young lord was
in pursuit of amusement only, and seeing at a glance the coyness of
the heiress, and the somewhat forward coquetry of her sister, he had
accommodated himself to circumstances, and determined that a passing
flirtation with so pretty a girl, and a short _sejour_ at a house so
well-appointed as Ditton, would be no unpleasant substitute for London
in the dog-days; and George Delawarr, like Romeo, had discarded the
imaginary love the moment he found the true Juliet. If not in love, he
certainly was fascinated, charmed; he certainly thought Blanche the
sweetest, and most lovely girl he had ever met, and was well inclined
to believe that she was the best and most admirable. He trembled on
the verge of his fate.

And she--her destiny was fixed already, and forever! And when she saw
her sister delighted with the attentions of the youthful nobleman, she
smiled to herself, and dreamed a pleasant dream, and gave herself up
to the sweet delusion. She had already asked her own heart "does he
love me?" and though it fluttered sorely, and hesitated for a while,
it did not answer, "No!"

But as the gentlemen rode homeward, St. George turned shortly on his
companion, and said, gravely,

"You have changed your mind, Delawarr, and found out that I am right.
Nevertheless, beware! do not, for God's sake, fall in love with her,
or make her love you!"

The blood flushed fiery-red to the ingenuous brow of George Delawarr,
and he was embarrassed for a moment. Then he tried to turn off his
confusion with a jest.

"What, jealous, my lord! jealous of a poor cornet, with no other
fortune than an honorable name, and a bright sword! I thought you,
too, had changed your mind, when I saw you flirting so merrily with
that merry brunette."

"You did see me _flirting_, George--nothing more; and I _have_ changed
my mind, since the beginning, if not since the end of last
evening--for I thought at first that fair Blanche Fitz-Henry would
make me a charming wife; and now I am sure that she would _not_--"

"Why so, my lord? For God's sake! why say you so?"

"Because she never would love _me_, George; and _I_ would never marry
any woman, unless I were sure that she both could and did. So you see
that I am not the least jealous; but still