“Ah! my dear mother,” said Mr. Beaumont, “I have not your knowledge of the world, or of human nature; but from all I have heard, seen, and felt, I am convinced that more unpleasant feelings are created in families, by these false delicacies, and managements, and hints, and go-between friends by courtesy, than ever would have been caused by the parties speaking directly to one another, and telling the plain truth about their thoughts and wishes. Forgive me if I speak too plainly at this moment; as we are to live together, I hope, many years, it may spare us many an unhappy hour.” Mrs. Beaumont wiped her eyes. Her son found it difficult to go on, and yet, upon his own principles, it was right to proceed. “Amelia, ma’am! I find she is ill this morning.” “Yes--poor child!” “I hope, mother--” “Since,” interrupted Mrs. Beaumont, “my dear son wishes always to hear from me the plain and direct truth, I must tell him, that, as the guardian of his sister, I think myself accountable to no one for my conduct with respect to her; and that I should look upon any interference as an unkind and unjustifiable doubt of my affection for my daughter. Rest satisfied with this assurance, that her happiness is, in all I do, my first object; and as I have told her a thousand times, no force shall be put on her inclinations.” “I have no more to say, no more to ask,” said Mr. Beaumont. “This is a distinct, positive declaration, in which I will confide, and, in future, not suffer appearances to alarm me. A mother would not keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope.” Mrs. Beaumont, feeling herself change countenance, made an attempt to blow her nose, and succeeded in hiding her face with her handkerchief. “With respect to myself,” continued Mr. Beaumont, “I should also say, lest you should be in any doubt concerning my sentiments, that though I have complied with your request to delay for a few weeks--” “_That_ you need not repeat, my dear,” interrupted Mrs. Beaumont. “I understand all that perfectly.” “Then at the end of this month I shall--and, I hope, with your entire approbation, propose for Miss Walsingham.” “Time enough,” said Mrs. Beaumont, smiling, and tapping her son playfully on the shoulder, “time enough to talk of that when the end of the month comes. How often have I seen young men like you change their minds, and fall in and out of love in the course of one short month! At any rate,” continued Mrs. Beaumont, “let us pass to the order of the day; for we have time enough to settle other matters; but the order of the day--a tiresome one, I confess--is to settle accounts.” “I am ready--” “So am I.” “Then let us go with the accounts to Mr. Palmer, who is also ready, I am sure.”