e, as her husband led her in, to
lay the plan she had formed (for the celebration of Charlotte's birth
day,) before Mr. Eldridge.

CHAPTER IX.

WE KNOW NOT WHAT A DAY MAY BRING FORTH.

VARIOUS were the sensations which agitated the mind of Charlotte, during
the day preceding the evening in which she was to meet Montraville.
Several times did she almost resolve to go to her governess, show her
the letter, and be guided by her advice: but Charlotte had taken one
step in the ways of imprudence; and when that is once done, there are
always innumerable obstacles to prevent the erring person returning to
the path of rectitude: yet these obstacles, however forcible they may
appear in general, exist chiefly in imagination.

Charlotte feared the anger of her governess: she loved her mother,
and the very idea of incurring her displeasure, gave her the greatest
uneasiness: but there was a more forcible reason still remaining: should
she show the letter to Madame Du Pont, she must confess the means by
which it came into her possession; and what would be the consequence?
Mademoiselle would be turned out of doors.

"I must not be ungrateful," said she. "La Rue is very kind to me;
besides I can, when I see Montraville, inform him of the impropriety of
our continuing to see or correspond with each other, and request him to
come no more to Chichester."

However prudent Charlotte might be in these resolutions, she certainly
did not take a proper method to confirm herself in them. Several times
in the course of the day, she indulged herself in reading over the
letter, and each time she read it, the contents sunk deeper in her
heart. As evening drew near, she caught herself frequently consulting
her watch. "I wish this foolish meeting was over," said she, by way of
apology to her own heart, "I wish it was over; for when I have seen him,
and convinced him my resolution is not to be shaken, I shall feel my
mind much easier."

The appointed hour arrived. Charlotte and Mademoiselle eluded the eye of
vigilance; and Montraville, who had waited their coming with impatience,
received them with rapturous and unbounded acknowledgments for their
condescension: he had wisely brought Belcour with him to entertain
Mademoiselle, while he enjoyed an uninterrupted conversation with
Charlotte.

Belcour was a man whose character might be comprised in a few words; and
as he will make some figure in the ensuing pages, I shall here describe
him