“But stay, my love; you must understand, too, that it is to be quite a secret between ourselves, not to be mentioned to my son even; for you know he is sudden in his temper, and warm and quite in the Walsingham interest, and there’s no knowing what might be the consequence if it were to be let out imprudently, and Sir John and Edward both so high-spirited. One can’t be too cautious, my dear, to prevent mischief between gentlemen. So caution your brother to leave it to me to break it, and bring things about with Edward and Amelia,”--[stopping Miss Hunter again as she made a second effort to get into the carriage,]--“You comprehend, my dear, that Amelia is not in the secret yet--so not a word from your brother to her about _my approbation!_--that would ruin all. I trust to his honour; and besides--” drawing the young lady back for the third whisper.--Miss Hunter stood suspended with one foot in air, and the other on the step; the coachman, impatient to be off, manoeuvred to make his horses restless, whilst at the same time he cried aloud--“So! so! Prancer--stand still, Peacock; stand still, sir!” Miss Hunter jumped down on terra firma. “Those horses frighten me so for you, my dear!” said Mrs. Beaumont. “Martin, stand at their heads. My dear child, I won’t detain you, for you’ll be late. I had only to say, that--oh! that I trust implicitly to your brother’s honour; but, besides this, it will not be amiss for you to hint, as you know you can delicately--_delicately_, you understand--that it is for his interest to leave me to manage every thing. Yet none of this is to be said _as if from me_--pray don’t let it come from me. Say it all from yourself. Don’t let my name be mentioned at all. Don’t commit me, you understand?” “Perfectly, perfectly, ma’am: one kiss, dear Mrs. Beaumont, and adieu. Is my dressing-box in? Tell him to drive fast, for I hate going slow. Dearest Mrs. Beaumont, good bye. I feel as if I were going for an age, though it is only for one day.” “Dear, affectionate girl! I love _heart_--Good bye--Drive fast, as Miss Hunter desires you.” Our fair politician, well satisfied with the understanding of her confidante, which never comprehended more than met the ear, and secure in a chargé d’affaires, whose powers it was never necessary to limit, stood on the steps before the house-door, deep in reverie, for some minutes after the carriage had driven away, till she was roused by seeing her son returning from his morning’s ride. CHAPTER III. _“Will you hear a Spanish lady, How she woo’d an English man? Garments gay as rich as may be, Deck’d with jewels, she had on.”_ THE SPANISH LADY’S LOVE. _Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry_