vocal, but by which he meant nothing, though the lady thought otherwise.
They had been near three weeks at Scarborough; the ladies had heard twice from Matilda, but as she requested her name might never be mentioned to the Count, but from necessity, they only answered his eager enquiries, by saying she was well, and appeared to be much pleased with her situation. He saw there was a reserve in their manner, and justly supposed it owing to her restrictions: he did justice to her greatness of mind, which only served to increase his love and regrets.
One morning Mrs Courtney, entering the Marchioness's dressing room, flung herself into a chair, "Bless me! (said she) what shall I do with your friend, the Count? he has drawn me into a pretty scrape,—I never intended marrying again, but he is so pressing, so irresistible—" "Who (cried the Marchioness, surprised) the Count? he pressing?" "Why, yes (answered she;) surely
