ascertain as soon as possible; and he took leave of his new friends, after engaging to spend the next evening but one at Mr. Ross's. The landlord at the Prince of Wales understood and spoke English; but it was with so much of the Welsh accent, that Mordaunt, with difficulty, comprehended his meaning. The curiosity which he felt, however, to learn more about Charles Ross, induced him, once again, to attempt a conversation with "neighbour Jones," as Powis called him, though, in general, Mordaunt's patience, which was by no means inexhaustible, and an ear refined by living much in his early days with people of fashion and learning, were severely tried by provincial dialects, and he avoided, as much as possible, any conference with those who spoke what he termed a barbarous jargon: for humour of any kind, or odd characters, whether natural or acquired, he had no taste; sentiment, elegance, and refinement of language and manners, were to him indispensable requisites of those be regarded; and above all things he detested that mixture of familiarity and obsequiousness which the landlord of a country inn shews to one, who, though his guest, he fancies his equal; yet there was some paramount feeling in Mordaunt's mind, which forced him to dispense with all these niceties, and seek intelligence even from a man whose language and manner were equally distasteful to him. From Jones, then, he learnt that Charles was the son of Mr. Ross, and that he was a young man of about twenty, rather handsome, a midshipman in the navy, and that he was going to join his ship immediately. Jones allowed that the general opinion was that Ellen Powis was the object of Charles's affections, and that all their friends wished it might be a match, but that Winifred Powis's old servant declared Miss Ellen only regarded him as a brother, and she was sure had no thought of being his wife. Mordaunt recollected the blush, the slight shade of gravity or vexation which had passed over Ellen's lovely face; yet these might not be symptoms of more than sisterly affection, and something whispered a wish to Mordaunt that Ellen's love for Charles might be no more.