The truth is, Miss Sukey Snatchum was not a very delicate morsel. Wentbridge, as we have said, made a different election, and got no promotion from the bishop. With his wife he lived extremely happy for twenty years, when, having caught a fever from a sick cottager, whom she deemed it her duty to visit, she, to his inexpressible grief, died, leaving two sons and one daughter. The eldest son, now about twenty-three, was brought up to his father’s profession; the second, having been on a visit to a school-fellow at Hull, was so delighted with the shipping, that he caught a fondness for the sea, and was in the India service. The only child that constantly resided with the vicar was his daughter. Eliza Wentbridge was about nineteen years of age, and though not regularly beautiful had an agreeable, engaging, and expressive countenance, a good height, a comely figure, with a frank, open, and unembarrassed manner, the result of good sense, good dispositions, and a judicious education. Wentbridge had, indeed, spared no pains in himself forming and directing his daughter’s understanding and heart, and his wife had contributed her share both to her mind and manners; and the savings of œconomy and self-denial had not been wanted in super-adding accomplishment to useful acquirement. For several years she had resided chiefly at Doncaster, with a sister of her mother, who, seeking independence by laudable industry and meritorious exertion, devoted her time and talents to the superintendance of a boarding school. She was now returned to her father’s, the favourite companion of his declining years, the partner of his amusements, the minister of his bounties, the attendant of his excursions, and often the associate of his studies. Miss Wentbridge was well acquainted with the best British authors, and a very competent judge of their respective merits. She was particularly fond of history, then beginning to form so brilliant a portion of her country’s literature. She inherited from her father a very high admiration of British efforts in the various departments of ability and exertion. She admired the national heroism; often listened with delight to her father’s descriptions of the ardent struggles for independence, which repelled the operose attempts of bigotry and despotism, under a glorious sovereign of her own sex, though she often wished, that with the great and lofty virtues of that illustrious Princess there had been mixed more of the feminine softness, the mild and gentle charities which might have spared the lovely Mary. Descending to more recent events, she would with pleasure hear the natural though homely recitals of old Maxwell, and enjoy the fire of his eye, when describing the defence of Bergen-op-Zoom, or the capture of Quebec; she was well acquainted with the events of the war just terminated, especially such as displayed heroism, or manifested British character. Such was the young lady to whom Major Hamilton was now introduced.