When a young gentleman and a young lady, and another young gentleman and young lady, respectively, brothers and sisters, happen to be members of the same company, custom and politeness require that the chief attention should not be shewn to the nearest relation. Our youthful perambulators, on this occasion, found no difficulty in obeying those rules. John Mortimer prevailed on Miss Hamilton to take hold of his arm, while his fair sister graciously vouchsafed the same honour to our hero. Mortimer was already deeply impressed with the charms of his friend’s sister, nor was she altogether insensible to the charms of her friend’s brother. In such a disposition, there was no great chance that the parties should find their walk tedious. Mortimer had as yet made no declaration of his sentiments, so that Charlotte could hear him without any consciousness of impropriety; and, as his conversation was very pleasing, she could not help listening with complacency. Hamilton had often and strongly urged his passion, and though he had not obtained any literal and verbal avowals of mutual affection, yet in the softness of Maria’s smiles, and the bewitching glances of her eyes, he received such testimonies, as he could not easily misinterpret. The respective couples were so much occupied themselves, that they did not attend to each other. By some means, Hamilton and our heroine seeing a path lead off to a still more pleasant scene, directed their steps thither. Their friends, not observing this movement, kept straight forward. Hamilton and his lady now found themselves in a sloping copse, through which there was a narrow track, forming a vista, terminated by the church. This sequestered retirement, which might have excited ideas of love in the bosoms of two agreeable young persons that had been before unengaged, could not fail to promote them in hearts that already glowed so warmly. Our hero, the whole of whose expressions both of tongue, voice, and countenance, had been even more than ever impressive during this short excursion, had quite enchanted and dissolved the heart of Maria. All her darting quickness of penetration, the brilliancy of genius, appeared to suspend their wonted operation on her countenance and manners. Every look and tone spoke the tenderness of love. Gentle pressure of her fair hand, while he held it in his, progressively led to farther caresses, and encircling the charming creature in his eager arms, he had imprinted a glowing kiss on her pouting lips, which her unsuspicious innocence had not chid from the object of impassioned love and undoubting confidence. The reception favoured repetition. Our hero had almost forgotten every consideration but one, that he had in his arms her whom he thought the loveliest of women; when suddenly a voice struck their ears, uttering the following words: “This way, honey; come, my dear girl, here is an opening through the bushes;” and presently Mr. O’Rourke made his appearance. He started at the sight