"You are quite mistaken, dear sister; it is a good, kind, dear letter, as ever was written; the words are poured out freely as the thoughts rose to his mind—his conclusion is all apology, and he mentions you and his noble companion in such a kind manner. You need not to blush so, Mary, but I must say it becomes you amazingly."
"Don't jest on that subject, Isabella, I beseech you; I can better bear the severity of Mr. Glentworth, than a joke, even from you."
"Dear, dear sister, I would not trifle with your feelings for the world; and I am sure you believe neither Lord Allerton nor any man living would dare to trifle with Glentworth, either respecting his sister or any other subject?"
"I don't suppose they would; he is the last man any one would play with in a serious matter."
"Admitting that, I may tell you, for I am authorized to do so, both in the body of the letter and again in the postscript, that Lord Allerton is a penitent in all that concerns the past, and a true lover at the present, and that he is returning with Glentworth, to offer you the heart which has suffered anguish enough since you lost sight of each other, to render him an object of pity if not of. But here, take the letter, and shut yourself up with it. I must have the babe, and prattle to it of the father: when once I can teach it to say 'Papa! Papa!' I think it will be the happiest day of my existence. Fie
