With this intent he went the next day to visit her; but, being told she could see no company that day, was going from the door; when Miss Flora, who had watched for him at the parlour-window, came and desired him to walk in. His complaisance would not permit him to refuse her request; and, after the usual compliments, said he was sorry Miss Betsy was so ill. 'You need not be in much pain,' replied she, with a look which he thought had more than ordinary meaning in it; 'she is not greatly indisposed.'--'Perhaps,' cried Mr. Trueworth, with some warmth, 'she is only so to me.'--'I cannot say anything to that,' returned Miss Flora; 'but her orders were in general to all that came; and I believe, indeed, she is not perfectly well. She came home extremely late last night, and seemed in a good deal of disorder.'--'Disorder, Madam!' interrupted Mr. Trueworth, impatiently. 'For Heaven's sake, on what occasion?'--'I wish I could inform you,' answered she; 'but at present I am not favoured with her confidence, though there was a time when I was made partaker of her dearest secrets. I wish those she now intrusts them with may be no less faithful to her than I have been.'--'I hope,' said he, 'she has none which, to be betrayed in, would give her pain.' With these words he rose up to go away. Miss Flora fain would have persuaded him to drink tea: but he excused himself, saying he was engaged; that he came only to enquire after the health of her fair friend, and could not have staid, if so happy as to have seen her. Scarce could this passionate lover contain himself till he got out of the house. The manner in which Miss Flora had spoke of Miss Betsy, added fresh fuel to the jealousies he was before possessed of: but, how great soever his disturbance was, he found, on his return home, somewhat which made all he had known before seem light and trifling. CHAPTER XII _Contains some passages which, it is probable, will afford more pain than pleasure; yet which are very pertinent to the history, and necessary to be related_ Though the words which Miss Flora had let fall to Mr. Trueworth, concerning Miss Betsy, seemed as if spoken by mere chance, there was couched under them a design of the most black and villainous kind that ever entered the breast of woman, as will presently appear, to the astonishment of every reader. In order to do this, we must relate an incident in Miss Betsy's life not hitherto mentioned, and which happened some little time before her going to Oxford with her brother Frank.