The young London merchant also became acquainted with another maiden near his own age. She is represented as exceedingly lovely in person and character. Her eyes were blue, her hair was of a golden color, and her complexion was brilliant, heightened in its charms, perhaps, by a hectic glow upon her cheek--the sad prophecy of the early fading of youthful beauty and of life. The maiden was Honora Sneyd, an inmate of the family of Canon Seward, and the loved companion of Anna. [Illustration: Honora Sneyd.--(From a painting by Romney.)[12]] André was then eighteen years of age; a handsome, slender, graceful, and vivacious youth, with features as delicate as those of a girl, and accomplished beyond most young men of his time. He was five feet nine inches in height, dark complexion, dark eyes, brown hair, with a somewhat serious and tender expression. His manners were easy and insinuating. The young couple fell desperately in love with each other at their first meeting. Anna was delighted, and she fostered the passion. The lovers were betrothed before the summer was over; but "Love's young dream" was disturbed. The father of Miss Sneyd and the mother of André decided that both were too young for wedlock then, and it was agreed that at least two years should intervene between betrothal and nuptials. It was also deemed proper that they should be kept apart as much as possible during that period, in order to test the strength and reality of their attachment, and for other prudential reasons. With this understanding André returned to his desk in London, a hundred and twenty miles away. He had sketched two miniatures of Miss Sneyd. One he gave to Anna Seward, the other he placed in a locket and carried it in his bosom. He also arranged for a correspondence between Miss Seward and himself, of which Honora was to be the chief burden. Three of these letters have been preserved, and are printed in this volume. "His epistolary writings," says Dr. Sparks, "so far as specimens of them have been preserved, show a delicacy of sentiment, a playfulness of imagination, and an ease of style, which could proceed only from native refinement and a high degree of culture." André had an aversion to mercantile pursuits, and had told his Lichfield friends that he greatly preferred the military profession. Miss Seward urged him to stick to his desk, as the only sure promise of a competence which would enable him to marry Honora. Her persuasion prevailed, and he resolved to remain a merchant, for a time at least. In one of his letters to her he wrote: "I know you will interest yourself in my destiny. I have now completely subdued my aversion to the profession of a merchant, and hope, in time, to acquire an inclination for it.... When an impertinent consciousness whispers in my ear that I am not of the right stuff for a merchant, I draw my Honora's picture from my bosom, and the sight of that dear talisman so inspirits my industry that no toil seems oppressive."