Hamilton informed him of the necessity of his immediate procedure; but promised to visit Oakgrove on his return. At the usual hour they arrived at Northallerton, and the father having pointed out his house, which was in the immediate neighbourhood, they came to the Inn, whence the squire declared he would see his new friend fairly set off, before Maria and he should walk home. They were sitting in a parlour, and, the squire having gone out, Hamilton very strongly expressed the delight which he had enjoyed from so charming a companion, and the eagerness with which he would avail himself of her respectable father’s friendly invitation. “I shall,” he said, “have very great happiness in seeing my friend John, than whom I can love no _man_ more affectionately, but with what exquisite joy I shall again behold his lovely and angelic sister.” Before he had time to finish, the squire returned; and a minute or two after, a tall strapping lady, very thinly dressed, and who about the neck anticipated the imitation of mother Eve, that has since become so prevalent, came in, saying, she understood there was one gentleman to be her fellow passenger in the mail, she had come to have the pleasure of his acquaintance before they embarked together. “I understand,” she continued, “that he is a very handsome young gentleman, and so, sir, I suppose you are he.” Hamilton, though not unacquainted with the world, and not without many opportunities, could not be called a man of gallantry, and made a very slight answer to this compliment, perhaps the more slight from the presence of Maria. The squire, a hearty and a civil man, yet had not that kind of politeness which can completely dissemble sentiments and opinions; he was moreover a wag. He winked significantly on Hamilton, and calling him aside, whispered, “This will be a good joke to your friend John, but take care, my boy, some of those dashing misses are Tartars.” He might have explained this metaphor, but was interrupted by the sound of the horn, and the coachman summoning them to depart. Accordingly Hamilton was under the necessity of leaving the charming Miss Mortimer, and at parting, though he hardly spoke with his tongue, yet in half a minute expressed with his eyes an ardour of affection and tenderness of regret, which Maria must have been as remarkable for dullness as she was for the contrary, if she had not observed. She did more than observe, she also felt.--After a very cordial squeeze of the father’s hand, and a renewal of his promise to visit the Grove on his return, he departed. Having, after the coach was set off, continued to gaze on the window where Maria stood, on the turning of the corner he lost sight of the beloved object, and, regardless of his fellow traveller, threw himself back, and feigning to be asleep, brooded in fancy over the lovely image of Maria. His companion was one of those young ladies who, having the eye of an hawk after the handsome of the opposite sex,