I took my way to the Priory House at a very early hour, in order to make the sketch I had promised Miss Vernon. She was reading to her grandfather when I arrived, and welcomed me joyously, entering with eager interest into my preparations for drawing, and the various questions which arose as to the objects to be taken in, &c., in a way, too, which showed some knowledge of the art; and hour after hour slipped by as I sat before the window, sometimes laying down my pencil to talk with the Colonel, sometimes caressing his fine old dog, who appeared to have established a species of guard over me; while Kate, constantly watchful of my progress, flitted backwards and forwards between me and the open window, often pointing with her rosy forefinger to some shading she wished deepened, or some light brought into stronger relief; branching off from discussions on the effects of distance, &c., into all sorts of irrelevant subjects, then blaming herself for interrupting me, and exhorting me to renewed diligence; and all this so naturally, so earnestly, showing openly her pleasure at having me to talk to, but without one shadow of that indescribable consciousness by which so many women seem to say to themselves, "Now I know he is going to make love to me." No, strongly as I felt tempted to do so, there was a frankness and repose in Miss Vernon's manner I would not for worlds have disturbed by even a whisper of the profound admiration she inspired. Something of the high principled and unselfish tone pervading the society into which I had fallen, appeared to influence me with more of thought for future consequences than was my usual habit; besides, there is nothing so blighting to sentimentalism as the friendly cordiality I have described; nevertheless, though I do not believe I was ever before so long in the society of a beautiful girl without getting up some degree of flirtation, the morning flew rapidly and delightfully away.