Had my uncle’s perception been clearer, or had he been less vigorously using his weeder, as he ran on thus, he could not have failed to observe how powerfully the last name he uttered affected me. After a pause—"In none of your letters," said I, "did you mention that Lady Loftus was here." "Did I not? But Cora is your chief correspondent, and no no doubt she did." "On the contrary, my cousin never once referred to her." "Strange! Lord Chillingham left us a week ago in haste to attend a meeting of the Cabinet; but his women folks have been rusticating here for nearly three months. Charming person the countess—charming, indeed; but the daughter is quite a Diana. You have met her before—she told us so, and I have made up my mind—ah, you know for what, you rogue—eh?" What my uncle had made up his mind for was not very apparent; but he concluded his sentence by poking the weeder under my short ribs. "To have me marry in haste and repent at leisure, eh, uncle—is it for this that your mind is made up?" "I am a man of the old school, Newton; yet I hate proverbs, and everything old, except wine and good breeding." "You are aware, uncle," said I, to change the subject, "that the lancers are under orders for Turkey?" "Where women are kept under lock and key, bought, and secluded from society; just as in Britain they are thrust into it for sale." "And so, my dear uncle, supposing that a lively young lancer will make a most excellent husband for your noble and beautiful _protégée_, you are resolved to make a victim of me, is it not so?" "Precisely; but according to the old use and wont in drama and romance, you must not be a willing one; you must be prepared to hate her cordially at first sight, and to prefer some one else—of course, some amiable village damsel, of humble but respectable parentage," replied Sir Nigel, laughing. "Hate _her_—prefer another!" I exclaimed; "on the contrary, I—I——" I know not what I was about to say, or how far I might have betrayed myself. The blood rushed to my temples, and I felt giddy and confused, for the kind old baronet knew little of the hopeless passion with which the fair one of whom he spoke had inspired me already. "You have met the Lady Lousia before, you say?" "Nay, ’twas she who said she had met me," said I, glad to recall by this trifling remark that I was not forgotten by her. "Ah, indeed—indeed; where?" "Oh, at Canterbury, at Tunbridge Wells, Bath; all those places where people are to be met. In London, too, I saw her presented at Court." "The deuce! You and she seem to have gone in a leash," said Sir Nigel, laughing, while the colour deepened on my cheek again; "but you must look sharp, for one of your fellows who is here is for ever dangling after her." "One of _ours_?" I exclaimed, with astonishment.