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but after all, what is rank, but a mark that the founder of the family who bears it was a good, a wise, or a brave man? that he deserved well of his country, and that his country bestowed upon him hereditary honour, not only as a reward to himself, but as a stimulus to his descendants, inciting them to actions worthy of their name? And sure I am, that those who derogate from the honour of their ancestors, far more debase it in the eyes of the world, than those who declaim against the institution itself. Malden is a gentleman, both by profession and manners Caroline has a handsome fortune of her own, and nothing would gratify me more than to see her united to so amiable a man."
“ Your sister is not yet won though,” answered lord Burton ; ' “ Malden may suffer a disappointment there."
“I do not think so," replied Charles; " from all I have seen, and from all I have heard, Malden is very likely to succeed with her at least; all her letters to me,
of restraint towards him, but every day gave him new proofs of her affection, and fresh canse for admiration.
Charles was now beginning to be tired of wandering—he had pictured to himself such a happy home, to bless the remainder of his days, that he could not feel satisfied till the dream of his imagination was rea. lized. He looked forward to England with a thousand hopes, and heartily wished that their travels were over. He was scarcely contented to extend their tour to the Ionian islands; but it was Mary's wish, and every thing, of course, yielded to that: but as a concession on the other part, it was agreed that they should only remain one month longer at Naples instead of two, which had been at first proposed, and Charles, obliged to bridle his impatience, did it with a good grace, and enjoyed the present, as well as looked forward to the
Wilson's sister married a Mr. Travers, who lived in Devonshire, and after her death, which took place twelve or four· teen years ago, her eldest daughter came
to live with our rector. I was abroad at doctor Wilson's death, and did not hear of it for some time; and before I did so, Miss Travers had returned to her father, who, I had the best reason to believe, had fallen in circumstances; and during my stay in England, I could gain no information of where the family were. Malden now writes to me, that he has made inquiries in the part of the country where they formerly resided, and where he says they still bear the highest character in every respect. The people in the neighbourhood represent Mr. Travers as a man who spent a very large income amongst them, and who fell into poverty, not by his own extravagance, but by the unexpected termination of a lawsuit, which not only obliged him to yield a large portion of his property, but to sell the rest, it ever does, and that it will never come to an end.
Charles Melville was thinking what he should do next, in which occupation he had been engaged for the last half hour, without having been in the least enabled to solve that very perplexing problem. Mary was in her own room, writing a long letter to his sister Caroline; lady Anne Milsome was with her; lord Burton had gone out with his friend, the baron de S- ; and Charles being solus, and in one of those moods of idle indecision which will at times fall upon all of us, walked up and down the room, determining what he should do for half an hour. He was relieved at length, by the entrance of sir Philip Mason; there was haste in his eyes, and Charles at once guessed that he came to ask him to ride to count Mori's, which proved to be his purpose. The proposal was agreed to as soon as made; and in going, sir. Philip informed his companion, that he had settled every thing with the
count, count, who assured him that Biancha's affection was entirely his.
“ Ask her herself, Mason,” said Charles. “ Who would take a wife upon another man's word ?”
“ I intend to ask her, of course,” replied the young baronet; “ and further, I intend to ask her to-night, if the count gets out of the way, which you may manage for me if you can.”
It was a beautiful evening, and nothing could be imagined more lovely than the country, which, tinted in all the brightest hues of nature, declined gradually to the sea, whose wide waters extended far beneath the eye, scarcely ruffled by a breeze; and enlivened by the light and frequent sails that skimmed gently along its bosom, Sir Philip Mason was sometimes talkative and sometimes absent; and the varying emotions of his mind would incline him to linger, with a hesitation he could not overcome. Those moments of doubt are the most painful of a man's life; Charles