'Indeed, I have not that honour,' said Miss Mabel: 'finding myself a little ill this morning, I thought the air would do me good; so went into the Park, taking only a little girl with me, who lives next door, because I would not go quite alone. Being in the deshabille you see, I crossed the grass, and was passing towards the back of the Bird Cage Walk, where who should I see among the trees but Mr. Trueworth, if I may call the object that then presented itself to me by that name; for, indeed, Miss Betsy, the poor gentleman seems no more than the shadow of himself. He saw me at a distance, and I believe would have avoided me; but, perceiving my eyes were upon him, cleared his countenance as well as he was able, and accosted me with the usual salutations of the morning. "It is somewhat surprizing, Madam," said he, with an air of as much gallantry as he could assume, "to find a lady so justly entitled to the admiration of the world, as Miss Mabel is, shun the gay company of the Mall, and chuse an unfrequented walk, like this!"--"I might retort the same exclamation of surprize," replied I, "at so unexpectedly meeting with Mr. Trueworth here." 'After this, as you know, my dear,' continued she, 'I have lately, on your account, had the pleasure pretty often of Mr. Trueworth's company; I took the liberty to ask him where he had buried himself, that I had not seen him for so many days: to which he answered, not without a confusion, which I saw he attempted, though in vain, to conceal from me--"Yes, Madam, I have indeed been buried from all pleasure, have been swallowed up in affairs little less tormenting than those of the grave: but," added he, "they are now over, and I am preparing to return to my country seat, where I hope to re-enjoy that tranquillity which, since my leaving it, has been pretty much disturbed." 'Nothing could equal my astonishment at hearing him speak in this manner: "To your country-seat!" cried I; "not to continue there for any long time?"--"I know not as yet, Madam," replied he; and then, after a pause, "perhaps for ever!" added he. "Bless me," said I, "this is strange, indeed! Miss Betsy did not tell me a word of it; and I saw her but last night."--"She might not then know it, Madam," answered he: "but, if she had, I am not vain enough to imagine, she would think a trifle, such as my departure, worth the pains of mentioning." 'I then,' pursued Miss Mabel, 'endeavoured to rally him out of this humour. After having told him I had a better opinion of your understanding and generosity, than to be capable of believing you thought so lightly of his friendship and affection, I added, that this was only some little pique between you, some jealous whim: but he replied to all I said on this subject with a very grave air, pretended business, and took his leave somewhat abruptly for a man of that politeness I had till now always observed in him.'