“I have no doubt of it, now she is rid of her constant plague. You will see her spirits will mend in a short time. But what have you done with young graceless?” “I saw him embarked for the West Indies,” replied Mr. Snughead; “he was highly delighted with his uniform, and having gained his point, nothing would do but the army for Banks, and that predilection was, I fear, strengthened by his mother’s opposition to it.”—“He has been unfortunate in his destination,” observed the captain, “and will have a bad climate to encounter; it has of late been fatal to thousands.”—“He must take his chance and trust to Providence,” replied Mr. Snughead, with great gravity; “prudence and sobriety at his age, may preserve him, and I hope he will consider this, and be wise.”—“Wise!” echoed Miss Lucretia, “he must act otherwise, in that case, than he has hitherto done, and associate with those wiser than himself. However, I commend him for his spirit; for nothing is so ridiculous as to see a young man tied to his mother’s apron-string! And after all,” continued the tender-hearted spinster, “none of us can die more than once; therefore it is a folly to think of what may happen or not happen to Mr. Banks.”—Malcolm, who had during this conversation been biting a cork, with eyes flashing resentment, now burst into a sarcastic laugh. Lady Maclairn instantly rose, and observed, that the heat of the room incommoded her. A look of supplication directed to her son did not escape me. Every one agreed that the garden was preferable, and we left the table. I retired to my room. From the window I soon after saw the party sauntering in the avenue, but as Miss Flint was not with them, I supposed she had also chosen her apartment for a _tête-à-tête_ with Mr. Snughead. I therefore hastened down stairs to join my friends, when to my surprise and vexation, I found the _tête-à-tête_ party quietly enjoying themselves on the garden-seat close to the door I had to pass. I could not escape them without rudeness. “You have done wisely,” observed I languidly, “in being stationary.”—“I think we have,” answered Miss Flint, inviting me to occupy the vacant place by her side, “and I advise you to follow our example.”—I urged that I was going to the avenue.—“You look fatigued,” observed she with kindness, still pressing me to sit down, “and your friends will return soon, for I am certain we shall have thunder.”—Not disposed for any exertions, I took the seat, and with truth acknowledged that I had the head-ach. My silence, or stupidity, if it must be so, probably led Miss Flint to pursue the thread of the conversation which I had interrupted; for, turning to Mr. Snughead, she said—“But, as I was saying, Mr. Snughead, is it not your duty to prevent Wilson and his people from instantly occupying the only pew in the church open to strangers? It is really ridiculous to see such people so misplaced!”—“I have no authority to prevent them,” answered he.