affections,—Valpée would inevitably have filled that place in her heart, then so deeply occupied by the now inconstant Philimore.
Valpée, a perfect connoisseur in the art of music, had often, in his invitations to the Park, sent his flute; and in its accompaniments to her piano or harp, hung over her delighted by the harmonious sounds it produced. She herself, also, had felt the charm; and, forgetful of Philimore and his prior claims, had unconsciously indulged in the playful raillery and agreeable vivacity inspired by the moment, until conscience would whisper that she was the affianced bride of another.
By degrees such a restriction awakened; and though, to do her justice, her heart with its affections might have been firm and constant to its vows, yet ever absent from their object, the jocund turn of her disposition led her indiscriminately to indulge in her humour. Thus, from the repartee and wit of which she was mistress, arose a fondness for the company of the other sex, and she never could deny herself the gratification of endeavouring to attract their attention. With regard to Valpée, while this prevailing desire lay hidden from herself, she felt a wish he would make her an offer of his hand, which in refusing, thought she, will be more highly estimated by Philimore; and what an indubitable proof shall I give him of my preference,—my unalterable and exclusive partiality! She hoped also, if such an offer and refusal should occur, it would be the means
