Nothing is more common than that a person under the influence of mortification and disappointment should rush headlong into a fresh engagement; but this most frequently occurs when the mortification is one of which others are aware, and such a measure, it is hoped, will be a virtual disproval of the fact. Though a dangerous experiment, it is one which succeeds oftener than might be expected from so desperate a remedy. Fanny’s sense of right and wrong, however, could not reconcile itself to the plain fact of solemnly vowing an untruth, and she already found the duty of watching over her secret affections sufficiently difficult, not to venture to impose upon herself the additional one of loving where she was not inclined to do so. Perhaps time and perseverance might have conquered her objections, but, a proposal once made, and once rejected, an opportunity is seldom afforded for further acquaintance. This event had an unfavourable effect upon her mind. It proved to her that her heart was not free, that she had combated in vain. She was one day looking back upon her wayward fate, and reproaching herself for her weakness, when Lord Delaford entered the room, and inquired for Isabella. Fanny told him “she was walking in Kensington Gardens with the Miss Merfields.” “And when do you expect her home?” “Lady B—— takes her from Kensington Gardens to Grosvenor Place, where they dine together; and she accompanies her to the French play in her morning dress, so I am afraid she will not be at home till she returns to prepare for the balls.” “Balls! why how many is she going to to-night?” “Oh, there are five on the list; but she is only going to two.” “And what becomes of you?” “I dine with my father’s old friend, Mrs. Burley, and then I shall go quietly to bed; for I was at the Duchess’s ball last night, you know.” “So, I suppose, I must dine at my club, for I hate a solitary dinner in my own house. If I cannot have the comforts of home, I will play at the independence of a bachelor. Well, when I married, this was not the life to which I looked forward. But how comes it you are so quiet? Why do not you run the same course? Why are you not at all in the ring? You can endure the sight of your own fireside. You can find time for conversation, for reading. Your mind is not in a perpetual whirl.” “Oh, but you know I am not very strong; I could not do so much.” “But have you, then, the inclination?” “Why, not quite; I like it very much in its way; nobody can enjoy society more, I am sure, only——” “Only you have room in your heart for other things; you are not wholly engrossed by that all-devouring passion for the world. Ah, Fanny, if you had been able to like me when first we were acquainted, I should have been a happier man.” “Lord Delaford!” exclaimed Fanny, in a voice of doubt and fear.