e of mind, my lord, answered
he, I should be unworthy of the favours you do me, could I be capable of
presuming on them so far as to make any requests beyond the
continuance of them.

No, Horatio, resumed the baron, I acknowledge my gratitude has been too
deficient, since it has extended only to those civilities which are due
to your merit, exclusive of any obligation; the conversation we have had
together has hitherto afforded a pleasure to myself, and it is with a
good deal of mortification I now find a necessity to break it off:--I
would therefore have the satisfaction of doing something that might
convince you of my esteem, at the same time that I desire you to refrain
your visits.

Not all Horatio's courage could enable him to stand this shock, without
testifying some part of what passed in his mind:--he was utterly
incapable of making any reply, tho' the silence of the other shewed he
expected it, but stood like one confounded, and conscious of deserving
the banishment he heard pronounced against him.--At last recollecting
himself a little,--my lord, said he, I see not how I can be happy enough
to preserve any part of your esteem, since looked upon as unworthy an
honour you were once pleased to confer upon me.

You affect, said the baron, a slowness of apprehension, which is far
from being natural to you, and perhaps imagine, that by not seeming to
understand me, I should believe there were no grounds for me to forbid
you my house; but, young man, I am not so easily deceived; and since you
oblige me to speak plain, must tell you, I am sorry to find you have
entertained any projects, which, if you had the least consulted your
reason, you would have known could never be accomplished.--In fine,
Horatio, what you make so great a mystery of, may be explained in three
words:--I wish you well as a friend, but cannot think of making you my
son:--I would recompence what you have done for me with any thing but my
daughter, and as a proof of my concern for your happiness, I exclude you
from all society with her, in order to prevent so unavailing a passion
from taking too deep a root.

Ah, my lord, cried Horatio, perceiving all dissimulation would be vain,
the man who once adored mademoiselle de Palfoy can never cease to do so.
He ought therefore, replied the baron, without being moved, to consider
the consequences well before he begins to adore:--if I had been
consulted in the matter I should have advised you better; but