George Morton, the youth of whom such honourable mention has been made, was the son of a gentleman who had long resided in the next dwelling to Mr. Henly in the city, and who also possessed a country house near his own villa. These circumstances had induced an intimacy between the families that was cemented by the good opinion each entertained of the qualities of the other, and which had been so long and so often tried in scenes of happiness and misery, that were known to both. Young Morton was a few years the senior of Charlotte; and, at the time of commencing our tale, was but lately released from his collegiate labours. His goodness of heart and simplicity of manners made him an universal favourite; while the peculiarity of their situation brought him oftener before the notice of Charlotte than any other young man of her acquaintance.--But, notwithstanding the intimation of Maria Osgood, none of their friends in the least suspected any other feeling to exist between the youthful pair than the natural and very obvious one of disinterested esteem. As the family seated themselves at the dinner table, their guest exclaimed, in the heedless way that characterised her manner-- "Oh! Mrs. Henly, I have to congratulate you on the prospects of your soon having a son, and one so amiable and attractive as your daughter." "Indeed!" returned the matron, comprehending the other's meaning intuitively, "and what may be the young gentleman's name?" "You will be the envy of all the mothers in town," continued Maria, "and deservedly so. Two such children to fall to the lot of one mother!--Nay, do not shake your head, Charlotte; it must and shall be a match, I am determined." "My friendship for you would deter me from the measure, should nothing else interfere," said Charlotte, good humouredly. "Ah! I have already abandoned my pretensions-- twelve brothers and sisters, my dear, are a dreadful addition to bring into a family at once!" "I am sure I do not think so," returned Charlotte, timidly glancing her eye at her mother; "besides, I feel bound in honour to remember your original intention." "I tell you I have abandoned it, with all thoughts of the youth." "And who is the youth?" asked Mrs. Henly, affecting an indifference that she did not feel. "You will have the handsomest son in the city, certainly," said Maria; "and, possibly, the richest-- and the most learned--and, undeniably, the most admired!" "You quite excite my curiosity to know who this paragon can be," said the mother, looking at her husband, who returned the glance with one of equal solicitude. "I do not think he is more than four and twenty," added Maria; "and his black eyes would form a charming contrast to your blue ones." "To whom does Miss Osgood allude?" asked Mrs. Henly, yielding to a solicitude that she could no longer controul.