"Most probably he does, and so you blush for him, knowing that he would prevent the sailor from helping me. I dare say you are right; 'tis a very common course between persons so circumstanced."
"Indeed, indeed, mamma, I neither thought nor meant such a thing for a moment. Meersbrook is quite as generous as Arthur, and loves you as much, I don't doubt; but as your letter was in favour of his brother, he may not say as much and yet feel more."
"I would advise you to feel less, and to say no thing at all."
Poor Helen would have given the world for courage to kneel by the bedside of her mother, and confess that on this subject she had a right to feel much—a right to claim her mother's congratulations on her own principles, a right to hope that her promised destiny should solace her mother's melancholy situation.
But fluttered and timid, the moment passed by, and the next saw Lady Anne in one of those happy slumbers we have already adverted to; but it will not surprise the larger portion of our readers (for we apprehend that will be the young) if they are
