tion with which the Duke of Buckingham has been pleased to distinguish you. But one point remained to be settled—and that his Grace has accorded—namely, that the title of Avonleigh should descend to the second son."
Francesca could almost have laughed at the facility with which Lord Avonleigh had laid out the future according to his own will and pleasure; but her own position was too serious for mirth—now or never must she tell her father that he could not reckon on this disposition of her hand and heart—or rather hand only, for the heart seemed the last thing in the world that entered into his calculations. A myriad of beginnings to her intended discourse darted into her mind; but, as is usual in such cases, she chose the one the very worst suited to her purpose. "I never intend to marry," said she, in a faltering voice.
"Very proper to say so," replied her father, with an air of gracious encouragement. "Marriage should always take young ladies by surprise. It would be contrary to the dignity of my daughter to accept the Duke of Buckingham on supposition. I am well content you should refuse him beforehand."
"My father," said Francesca, rising from her seat, "I pray you listen to me for a few moments,
