but opportunities not wanting for the discussion,
he had felt constrained to yield to her better judgment, her purer taste.
The conquest of Colonel Egerton was complete, and Jane who saw in his
attentions the submission of a devoted heart, began to look forward to the
moment with trembling that was to remove the thin barrier that existed
between the adulation of the eyes and the most delicate assiduity to
please, and the open confidence of declared love. Jane Moseley had a heart
to love, and to love strongly; her danger existed in her imagination: it
was brilliant, unchastened by her judgment, we had almost said unfettered
by her principles. Principles such as are found in every-day maxims and
rules of conduct sufficient to restrain her within the bounds of perfect
decorum she was furnished with in abundance; but to that principle which
was to teach her submission in opposition to her wishes, to that principle
that could alone afford her security against the treachery of her own
passions, she was an utter stranger.

The family of Sir Edward were, among the first to retire, and as the
Chattertons had their own carriage, Mrs. Wilson and her charge returned
alone in the coach of the former. Emily, who had been rather out of
spirits the latter-part of the evening, broke the silence by suddenly
observing,

"Colonel Egerton is, or soon will be, a perfect hero!"

Her aunt somewhat surprised, both with the abruptness and with the
strength of the remark, inquired her meaning.

"Oh, Jane will make him one, whether or not."

This was spoken with an air of vexation which she was unused to, and Mrs.
Wilson gravely corrected her for speaking in a disrespectful manner of her
sister, one whom neither her years nor-situation entitled her in any
measure to advise or control. There was an impropriety in judging so near
and dear a relation harshly, even in thought. Emily pressed the hand of
her aunt and tremulously acknowledged her error; but she added, that she
felt a momentary irritation at the idea of a man of Colonel Egerton's
character gaining the command over feelings such as her sister possessed.
Mrs. Wilson kissed the cheek of her niece, while she inwardly acknowledged
the probable truth of the very remark she had thought it her duty to
censure. That the imagination of Jane would supply her lover with those
qualities she most honored herself, she believed was taken as a matter of
course; and that when the veil she had helped t