no person more clever and more judicious than papa. No person
is more considerate. But there are characters so rare, that men of the
world do not admit them into their general calculations, and such is
yours, Ferdinand.'

Here Ferdinand seemed plunged in thought, but he pressed her hand,
though he said nothing.

'He will think we have known each other too short a time,' continued
Miss Temple. 'He will be mortified, perhaps alarmed, when I inform him I
am no longer his.'

'Then do not inform him,' said Ferdinand.

She started.

'Let me inform him,' continued Ferdinand, giving another turn to his
meaning, and watching her countenance with an unfaltering eye.

'Dearest Ferdinand, always prepared to bear every burthen!' exclaimed
Miss Temple. 'How generous and good you are! No, it would be better for
me to speak first to my father. My soul, I will never have a secret from
you, and you, I am sure, will never have one from your Henrietta. This
is the truth; I do not repent the past, I glory in it; I am yours, and
I am proud to be yours. Were the past to be again acted, I would not
falter. But I cannot conceal from myself that, so far as my father is
concerned, I have not conducted myself towards him with frankness, with
respect, or with kindness. There is no fault in loving you. Even were he
to regret, he could not blame such an occurrence: but he will regret, he
will blame, he has a right both to regret and blame, my doing more
than love you--my engagement--without his advice, his sanction, his
knowledge, or even his suspicion!'

'You take too refined a view of our situation,' replied Ferdinand. 'Why
should you not spare your father the pain of such a communication, if
painful it would be? What has passed is between ourselves, and ought to
be between ourselves. If I request his permission to offer you my hand,
and he yields his consent, is not that ceremony enough?'

'I have never concealed anything from papa,' said Henrietta, 'but I will
be guided by you.'

'Leave, then, all to me,' said Ferdinand; 'be guided but by the judgment
of your own Ferdinand, my Henrietta, and believe me all will go right.
I will break this intelligence to your father. So we will settle it?' he
continued enquiringly.

'It shall be so.'

'Then arises the question,' said Ferdinand, 'when it would be most
advisable for me to make the communication. Now your father, Henrietta,
who is a man of the world, will of course expect that, when I