ss with ingratitude, I would follow
you through every danger, and, in studying to promote your happiness,
insure my own. But I cannot break my mother's heart, Montraville; I must
not bring the grey hairs of my doating grand-father with sorrow to the
grave, or make my beloved father perhaps curse the hour that gave me
birth." She covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.

"All these distressing scenes, my dear Charlotte," cried Montraville,
"are merely the chimeras of a disturbed fancy. Your parents might
perhaps grieve at first; but when they heard from your own hand that you
was with a man of honour, and that it was to insure your felicity by an
union with him, to which you feared they would never have given their
assent, that you left their protection, they will, be assured, forgive
an error which love alone occasioned, and when we return from America,
receive you with open arms and tears of joy."

Belcour and Mademoiselle heard this last speech, and conceiving it
a proper time to throw in their advice and persuasions, approached
Charlotte, and so well seconded the entreaties of Montraville, that
finding Mademoiselle intended going with Belcour, and feeling her own
treacherous heart too much inclined to accompany them, the hapless
Charlotte, in an evil hour, consented that the next evening they should
bring a chaise to the end of the town, and that she would leave her
friends, and throw herself entirely on the protection of Montraville.
"But should you," said she, looking earnestly at him, her eyes full
of tears, "should you, forgetful of your promises, and repenting the
engagements you here voluntarily enter into, forsake and leave me on a
foreign shore--" "Judge not so meanly of me," said he. "The moment we
reach our place of destination, Hymen shall sanctify our love; and when
I shall forget your goodness, may heaven forget me."

"Ah," said Charlotte, leaning on Mademoiselle's arm as they walked up
the garden together, "I have forgot all that I ought to have remembered,
in consenting to this intended elopement."

"You are a strange girl," said Mademoiselle: "you never know your
own mind two minutes at a time. Just now you declared Montraville's
happiness was what you prized most in the world; and now I suppose
you repent having insured that happiness by agreeing to accompany him
abroad."

"Indeed I do repent," replied Charlotte, "from my soul: but while
discretion points out the impropriety of my