If you really desire that my feelings should be consulted, that I should not--pardon me--consider myself sacrificed to the family pride of my guardian and the interests of my suitor--" "Madam!" exclaimed Vernon, reddening.
Pleased with the irritating effect her words had produced, Lucretia continued calmly, "If, in a word, I am to be a free agent in a choice on which my happiness depends, forbear to urge Sir Miles further at present; forbear to press your suit upon me.

Give me the delay of a few months; I shall know how to appreciate your delicacy." "Miss Clavering," answered Vernon, with a touch of the St.John haughtiness, "I am in despair that you should even think so grave an appeal to my honour necessary.

I am well aware of your expectations and my poverty.

And, believe me, I would rather rot in a prison than enrich myself by forcing your inclinations.

You have but to say the word, and I will (as becomes me as a man and gentleman) screen you from all chance of Sir Miles's displeasure, by taking it on myself to decline an honour of which I feel, indeed, very undeserving." "But I have offended you," said Lucretia, softly, while she turned aside to conceal the glad light of her eyes,--"pardon me; and to prove that you do so, give me your arm to my uncle's room." Vernon, with rather more of Sir Miles's antiquated stiffness than his own rakish ease, offered his arm, with a profound reverence, to his cousin, and they took their way to the house.