“After all, I am not indissolubly bound to Perdita--nor has she for ever linked her destiny with mine. No marriage ceremony has taken place between us--nor will any. I am not inextricably fastened to her apron-strings. And yet--and yet, is it honourable of me to make such calculations, the inferences to be drawn from which I am ashamed even to express to my own secret self? No--no: because no legal ties exist between us, I am the more imperiously bound to remain faithfully attached to her! Beautiful--enchanting--mysterious Perdita, how hast thou enthralled me! But--my God! am I not your willing slave?--do I not accept the yoke which thou hast thrown upon me?--would I release myself from those silken chains, even were I able? No--ten thousand times _no_, my adored--my worshipped Perdita! I care not whether thou dost exercise a supernatural enchantment over me: if thou art Satan in a female shape--or a serpent, as my dream appeared to give warning--I cannot cease to love thee,--no--never--never!” But what of Lady Frances Ellingham? Oh! it was rash--it was indiscreet of him to solicit her hand;--but had he not acted in pursuance of the advice of his father?--and had he gone so far as to be unable to retreat? Alas! Charles Hatfield, the sophistry of Perdita has rendered thee sophistical, until thou dost stand on the very threshold of--villainy! Reckless art thou of the whisperings of conscience:--thou art infatuated with the fatal beauty of thy Perdita--and the hope, the burning hope of tasting in her arms the pleasures of paradise, renders thee studious only to subdue the remorse that whispers to thee the name of the outraged Lady Frances Ellingham! Having wandered in the park for upwards of half an hour, Charles Hatfield bethought himself of the promise to send the amount of his savings to his beauteous Perdita; and, hastening home, he sought his chamber, which he reached unperceived by any one save the domestic who gave him admission. That he was thus unobserved, was a source of satisfaction,--inasmuch as he felt that his cheeks were flushed, and he feared lest his appearance might seem singular. Opening his desk he took from a secret drawer the Bank-notes which constituted his savings; and enveloping them in a sheet of paper, he issued forth again to leave the parcel at the house in Suffolk Street. This being done, Charles returned to the park, where he roamed about until the hour arrived when it was necessary for him to return home in order to dress for dinner. The reader must not forget that a splendid banquet was to take place that evening at the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham,--a banquet given in honour of the Prince of Montoni, and at which his Royal Highness was to be present.