"I hope not," said I, "and certainly I am not aware of any such thing. You are neither my husband, nor my lover, and you never made any professions of love to me; I hope you felt none; because--" and I hesitated in my turn. "Because what?" said Lord Worcester, in almost breathless anxiety. "Because my old friend, the Duke of Leinster, feels much annoyed at your visits, and----" "And you assured me he was indifferent to you," interrupted Worcester. "I said I was not in love with him, neither am I; but I cannot bear teasing him; so, to be frank with you, and one must be frank when one is in such a hurry," continued I, laughing, "I have promised to beg of you as a favour not to come here any more." Lord Worcester's face was scarlet first and then pale as death: he took up his hat, half in indignation, and then put it down in despair! Had I been more humble than I really am, I could not, with common sense, have doubted the deep impression I had made on Worcester. "_Ecoutez, mon ami_," said I, holding out my hand to him. "I cannot account for the prejudice which runs high in my favour among you young men of rank. I am inclined rather to attribute it to fashion or some odd accident, than to any peculiar merit on my part: still, flattered as I ought to be, and deeply grateful as I always am, it will yet be paying very dear for the impression which is excited in my favour, if, while my own heart happens to be free as air and my fancy ever laughter-loving, I am to condole all the morning with one fool, and sympathise the blessed long evening with another; neither can I be tender and true to a dozen of you at a time." "I did not," said Worcester, half indignantly, "I did not know that I was quite a fool; and at all events, I shall not intrude my folly on you if I am." In vain he tried to pull his hat completely over his eyes. The tears did not glisten there, as they did in Leinster's; but they fell in torrents as he attempted to take leave of me. "Oh dear me!" said I, as I sighed an inward good-bye to the self-same harlequin-farces, at which I had laughed so heartily many years before, when I accompanied poor Tom Sheridan to Astley's. "What am I to do, Lord Worcester?" I asked. "Upon my word I would rather suffer anything myself, than cause unhappiness to those that love me. I don't care a bit about myself. Only tell me what I can do for you and Leinster and my sister Fanny? For all who love me in short; for I would make all happy if I could, provided they don't grow too pathetic." "My dear, dearest Harriette," said Lord Worcester, "no man on earth, feeling as I have done, could have been less pathetic, as you call it, than I have been, for more than six months, that all my prayers, my hopes, and my wishes, have been for you, and your love and happiness. I have seldom visited you, and never, at least till to-day, done any one thing that could possibly bore or offend you." I could not but acknowledge this to be true.