“You call me your friend--and it is as a friend that I wish to consult you, Charles,” said the young woman, heaving a deep sigh. “You must know that, singular being that I may appear to you, and even unmaidenly hasty in forming so sincere a friendship----” “No--no: you obeyed the dictates of a generous heart--a heart as ingenuous and innocent as it is fervid and warm,” cried Charles, seizing one of her hands and pressing it in both his own. “Ah! now you comprehend my sentiments just as I would have explained them had I been able to find language for the purpose!” she said, abandoning her hand to him as if unwittingly. “But, as I was about to observe, I am all candour and frankness:--that is my deposition;--and when you left me last evening, I immediately hastened to my mother, who was seized with a sudden indisposition which prevented her from joining us in this room; and to her I revealed at once and unhesitatingly every word of the conversation that had occurred between you and me.” “And she doubtless reproached you for opening your heart so freely to one who was a complete stranger to you?” said Charles, now fearful lest Mrs. Fitzhardinge should forbid his visits to Perdita in future. “She reproached me indeed--but mildly and blandly,” answered the deceitful young woman, assuming a plaintive tone; “and yet not so mildly as was her wont on former occasions--for it appears that she has formed certain views in regard to me--views of marriage----” “Marriage, Perdita!” repeated Charles Hatfield, bitterly. “Yes,” she responded, her voice growing more mournful still. “A man of immense wealth--and with a noble title, but whose name I do not even yet know, and whom I have never seen----” “Oh! this is infamous, thus to dispose of you to a person whom perhaps you may never be able to love!” cried Charles, with strange emphasis and excitement of manner. “Love! I shall hate and abhor him, even though he be handsome and amiable beyond all conception,” exclaimed Perdita. “I shall detest him for the mere fact that I am compelled to espouse him.” “But will you yield with docility to an arrangement which seems to me--pardon the freedom with which I speak of your mother--to be indelicate and unjust?” demanded the young man. “Alas! I fear that I have no alternative save to yield with as good a grace as I can assume,” answered Perdita, tears now starting to her eyes, and trembling on her long dark lashes; “for the nobleman whom my mother would thus force me to wed, is her opponent in the law-suit--and he has discovered a means of establishing his claims beyond all possibility of farther dispute.” “Oh! I understand the dreadful selfishness that is now at work in respect to you!” cried Charles. “He will allow your mother to enjoy the fortune, provided you are immolated--sacrificed----” “Yes: those are the terms;--and now you may easily comprehend how I shrink from such a fate!” exclaimed the young woman, sobbing profoundly.