CHAPTER XXII.
". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Can it be,
That modesty may more betray our sense,
Than woman's lightness?"
Shakspeare.
Before we proceed in the course of our narrative we will digress awhile to give some account of Harcourt, who, though still young, had arrived to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. His property was considerable, and his family of high extraction.
Heartily tired of his profession, in the career of which he had met with various hardships, he had gladly dropped the military title, awaiting but an opportunity of resigning his commission and the profession of arms altogether; having been led to embrace it merely by the desire of his friends, who had supposed that the business, gaiety, and change of scene attendant upon a military life, might conduce to dissipate that thoughtful abstraction of mind to which they were inclined to think he was constitutionally subject. He had become weary of a pursuit which gave him little
