[Footnote 6: Tell me with whom she goes, and I'll tell you what she does.] Mr. Temple had not so long continued his discourse without frequent interruptions from Augustus, who could not at first easily be persuaded to assent to assertions, which tended to destroy the fairy dream of bliss that floated in his imagination. By degrees, however, as his judgment cooled, he acceded to the plain but severe truths which Mr. Temple uttered; while the deference and regard, which his pupil had always felt for the excellent old man, served still more effectually to obtain the conviction he aimed at, than even the logical strength of his reasoning. By degrees, Mordaunt not only confessed the truth of his remarks, but submitted to the wise plan of conduct, which Mr. Temple laid down for him. He proposed that Augustus should immediately leave the hall, and return to the prosecution of his studies at Oxford, leaving to time not only the development of Selina's character, but also the proof of to what extent he was actually attached to her. Their conversation was prolonged to a late hour; and when Mordaunt returned home, the family had all retired to rest, and the door was opened by a servant, who, at the same time, shaded with his hand the glimmering candle, which but partially illuminated the darkly wain-scotted hall. Augustus felt a chill creep through his veins as he quickly traversed it; and walking mechanically into the empty drawing-room, stopped a few minutes in melancholy silence. The music Selina had been playing was carelessly strewed over the harpsichord; the sermon book, in which Mrs. Galton had been reading, was laid open on the table; and Sir Henry's knotted cane had fallen down beside the chair, in which he usually took his evening nap. A sort of involuntary reflection passed through the mind of Augustus, that he might never again meet those three beloved individuals in that room, which had hitherto been to him the scene of his happiest hours; and shrinking from the melancholy train of ideas which this reflection gave birth to, he hastily retired to his room, though not to rest. Many a time, during that wakeful night, did the same reflection cross his mind; and many a time, in his future life, did it recur to his recollection with a poignant force. So often does it happen that melancholy fancies, occasioned in the mind by the temporary pressure of sorrow, are recalled to the memory by subsequent events, and, dignified by the accidental confirmation of casual circumstances, receive the name of _prophetic warnings_. CHAPTER IX. _Sneer._--True; but I think you manage ill: for there certainly appears no reason why Mr. Walter should be so communicative. _Puff._--For, egad now, that is one of the most ungrateful observations I ever heard;--for the less inducement he has to tell all this, the more I think you ought to be obliged to him; for I am sure you'd know nothing of the matter without it.