“She has not been well--fainted last night at a ball--is _hipped_ this morning; but we’ll get her spirits up again when we have her at Cheltenham--We shall be a famous dashing party! I have been beating up for recruits all day--here’s one,” said Colonel Hauton, turning to Godfrey Percy. “Excuse me,” said Godfrey, “I am engaged--I am obliged to join my regiment immediately.” He bowed gravely to Miss Hauton--wished her a good morning; and, without trusting himself to another look, retreated, saying to himself, “Sir, she’s yours--You have brushed from the grape its soft blue; From the rosebud you’ve shaken its tremulous dew: What you’ve touched you may take.--Pretty waltzer, adieu!” From this moment he mentioned Miss Hauton’s name no more in his own family. His whole mind now seemed, and not only seemed, but was, full of military thoughts. So quickly in youth do different and opposite trains of ideas and emotions succeed to each other; and so easy it is, by a timely exercise of reason and self-command, to prevent a _fancy_ from becoming a passion. Perhaps, if his own happiness alone had been in question, Godfrey might not have shown precisely the same prudence; but on this occasion his generosity and honour assisted his discretion. He plainly saw that Miss Hauton was not exactly a woman whom he could wish to make his wife--and he was too honourable to trifle with her affections. He was not such a coxcomb as to imagine that, in the course of so slight an acquaintance, he could have made any serious impression on this young lady’s heart: yet he could not but perceive that she had distinguished him from the first hour he was introduced to her; and he was aware that, with her extreme sensibility, and an unoccupied imagination, she might rapidly form for him an attachment that might lead to mutual misery.