“We shall see Mr. Hervey to-morrow; he has written me word that he will come from town, and spend the day with us.” “I shall be ashamed to see him after what has passed,” said Virginia. “You have no cause for shame, my dear; Mr. Hervey will try to discover the persons who insulted you, and he will punish them. They will never return here; you need not fear that. He is willing and able to protect you.” “Yes of that I am sure. But what did that strange man mean, when he said--” “What, my dear?” “That, perhaps, Mr. Hervey would marry me.” Virginia pronounced these words with difficulty. Mrs. Ormond was silent, for she was much embarrassed. Virginia having conquered her first difficulty, seemed resolute to obtain an answer. “You do not speak to me! Will you not tell me, dear Mrs. Ormond,” said she, hanging upon her fondly, “what did he mean?” “What he said, I suppose.” “But he said, that if I behaved well, I might get Mr. Hervey to marry me. What did he mean by that?” said Virginia, in an accent of offended pride. “He spoke very rudely and improperly; but it is not worth while to think of what he said, or what he meant.” “But, dear Mrs. Ormond, do not go away from me now: I never so much wished to speak to you in my whole life, and you turn away from me.” “Well, my love, well, what would you say?” “Tell me one thing, only one thing, and you will set my heart at ease. Does Mr. Hervey _wish_ me to be his wife?” “I cannot tell you that, my dearest Virginia. Time will show us. Perhaps his heart has not yet decided.” “I wish it would decide,” said Virginia, sighing deeply; “and I wish that strange man had not told me any thing about the matter; it has made me very unhappy.” She covered her eyes with her hand, but the tears trickled between her fingers, and rolled fast down her arm. Mrs. Ormond, quite overcome by the sight of her distress, was no longer able to keep the secret with which she had been entrusted by Clarence Hervey. And after all, thought she, Virginia will hear it from himself soon. I shall only spare her some unnecessary pain; it is cruel to see her thus, and to keep her in suspense. Besides, her weakness might be her ruin, in his opinion, if it were to extinguish all her energy, and deprive her of the very power of pleasing. How wan she looks, and how heavy are those sleepless eyes! She is not, indeed, in a condition to meet him, when he comes to us to-morrow: if she had some hopes, she would revive and appear with her natural ease and grace. “My sweet child,” said Mrs. Ormond, “I cannot bear to see you so melancholy; consider, Mr. Hervey will be with us to-morrow, and it will give him a great deal of pain to see you so.” “Will it? Then I will try to be very gay.” Mrs. Ormond was so delighted to see Virginia smile, that she could not forbear adding, “The strange man was not wrong in every thing he said; you _will_, one of these days, be Mr. Hervey’s wife.”