To the Baronet her smile was always enchantment; setting aside, therefore, any further pretence to strangeness, he leant his hands upon the counter, and peering archly under her bonnet, said, ''Tis you, indeed, then, sweet sorceress? And what sylph is it,--or what imp?--dulcet, or malignant!--that has drawn me again into the witchery of your charms?' He then poured forth countless enquiries into her situation, her projects, and her sentiments; but, all proving fruitless, he pathetically lamented the luckless meeting; and frankly owned, that he had brought himself to a resolution of seeing her no more. 'The rude assault,' said he, 'made upon my feelings by those mundane harpies at Arundelcastle, removed a bandage from "my mind's eye" that had veiled me to myself, and shewed me that I was an old fool caught in the delusions of love and beauty! I could parry no raillery, I could brave no suspicion, I could retort no sneer! Panic-struck and disordered, I stole away, like a gentle Philander of Arcadia, my head drooping upon my left shoulder, my eyes cast down upon the ground, with every love-born symptom,--except youth, which alone offers their apology! I spent the rest of the day in character with this opening; mute with my servants; loquacious in soliloquy; quarrelling with my books; and neglecting my dinner! Sleepless and sighing, I repaired to my solitary couch; lost to every idea of existence, but what pointed out to me how, when, and where I might again behold my lovely enchantress. Shall I tell you how it was I recovered, at last, my senses?' 'If you think the lesson may be useful to me, Sir Jaspar!--'