Isabel's happy disposition received these shocks with inimitable good humour. She listened to daily remarks upon her want of elegance, and believed in her total exemption from the gifts which Nature had lavished upon her elder sister; but her mind scorned the idea of mourning over a useless grief. She cared not for extraneous advantages which could not reach the mind: she never entered a ball-room without a profusion of dancing engagements; and if she was liked and followed, even in the presence of her handsome sister, what did she care for mere beauty? Lady Wetheral at last yielded the point, and allowed Isabel to choose her own mode of pleasing. Her taste turned with horror from her "unfortunate Isabel," but she ceased to look at, or remark upon, her _brusquerie_. She told Thompson, "some men took odd fancies to healthy, fat-looking, smiling girls, and probably Isabel might please some old rich widower or stupid retired bachelor, and marry at last: she would be a foil to her sisters, at any rate." Lady Wetheral was right: an odd, "retired bachelor" did admire Isabel precisely for her healthy, good-humoured looks; and, in process of time, he advanced, slowly and cautiously, to the attack; but his manner concealed the matter long to all eyes but those of her father. Lady Wetheral was blind to the very _dénouement_. "I can't imagine why that tiresome old Boscawen comes here every other morning, Sir John, sitting for hours and saying nothing: pray don't ask him to stay dinner again--he makes me ill." "He is a great friend of mine, Gertrude: I like Boscawen." "I know you like unaccountable people, love; but he worries _me_ to death, and he will sit at dinner between Anna Maria and Isabel. I don't consider Isabel, but he keeps Tom Pynsent away from Anna Maria, and never enters into any sort of conversation." "He thinks more than he says, my dear." "I hate people who think: thinking makes every thing worse: luckily, I have quite given up thinking about Isabel, or her loud laugh would kill me." "Boscawen does not object to Isabel's joyous laugh, Gertrude; he hopes to hear it in perpetuity." "I wish he would take her to himself, then," replied his lady, gently yawning, and taking up a novel. "Boscawen has proposed for Isabel," said Sir John, seriously. "How can you talk such nonsense, Sir John! if the old man proposes to any body, it will certainly be to Anna Maria. I saw he admired her exceedingly--so does every body: she is very captivating." "Boscawen has proposed for Isabel, however," he returned; "and though he is too advanced in years for a young girl's speculation, yet, if she could fancy him, I think she might be happy. I wish you to speak to your daughter upon the subject, Gertrude. If she has the slightest disinclination to Boscawen, do not mention him a second time: I will not allow her to be talked into matrimony."