“Ah! my generous friend,” murmured Perdita, advancing her countenance towards his own as if unwittingly and in the excitement of her feelings: “how deeply grateful to you am I for these assurances! I knew that I should receive your sympathy--if not your aid,--your commiseration--if not your assistance.” “How can I assist you, dearest Perdita?” exclaimed Charles, pressing her hand violently in his own. “The liberality of my pa----my uncle and aunt, I mean--have enabled me to accumulate some seven or eight hundred pounds--for my allowance is far more liberal than my expenditure: and that amount is at your mother’s service. But it is so small--so contemptibly small in comparison with the fortune which she doubtless hopes to acquire----” “Nevertheless, it may procure a delay, by rescuing my mother from the immediate embarrassments in which this sudden change in the aspect of her affairs has plunged her,” said Perdita: “for, to speak candidly to you, her solicitor has been advancing her a regular income during the time that the suit has lasted;--and now, since all hope of gaining it is destroyed, no farther supplies can be expected from that quarter.” “Yes--it may procure a delay,” said Charles, in a musing tone; “and with leisure to reflect calmly--deliberately--much may be done! O Perdita--never, never could I see you thus sacrificed to a man whom you would abhor!” “Generous friend--’twas heaven who sent you to me!” exclaimed the young woman, drooping her head upon his breast, and weeping,--weeping tears of gratitude, as he fondly believed. He threw his arms around her--he pressed her to his heart--he clasped her with such fervour that the embrace was passionately violent--he strained her as it were to the seat of his very soul: then, hastily loosening his hold, he raised her face--her warm, blushing face--and on her lips he imprinted a thousand rapturous kisses,--those lips that were literally glued to his own. He looked into her eyes, and read love, desire, and passion in those orbs, now melting with languor and wantonness;--for Perdita herself had almost entirely lost all power of self-controul, and clung to him as if inviting the full extreme of voluptuous enjoyment. He felt her bosom heaving against his chest; and, maddened with excitement, his daring hand invaded the treasures of those swelling, palpitating globes, so snowy in their whiteness--so warm with their licentious fires. But at that instant Perdita recovered her presence of mind: and it flashed to her memory that it was no part of her scheme to surrender herself completely up to him until she had ensnared his affections so fully--so inextricably, that all subsequent escape or estrangement, through repentance and remorse, should be impossible.