"You little prude, how is it that you never mentioned that you had such a charming neighbour? But what puzzles me still more is, that you have not fallen in love with him long ago; but there is no accounting for you Highland girls; I really believe your cold climate has some influence on your hearts; and besides, you are so close, and never sing your love to the winds like us simple Lowland lassies.
"I never met with a young gentleman to whom I could compare Mr. Stuart; so kind and unassuming, and yet so noble and manly in his manners. You may think it vanity on my part, when I tell you that I flatter myself that he pays more attention to your humble servant than he does to my more attractive sisters. We often talk of you, and he confirms what others have stated, that we are so much alike. He is studying for the bar, and papa anticipates that he will distinguish himself. How I love papa when he says so. You will perhaps smile at my nonsense; but when you are pierced with Cupid's dart, like I am, you will be equally silly. How is it that you hate Lord Lundy so? Such a fine-looking man, and such a splendid match; but for all that, I don't think I would exchange C. E. S. for him, providing I was sure of becoming Mrs. C. E. S. Your affectionate cousin,
As Catherine remarked, Bella was indeed too close, or rather too modest to confess her love; she considered it too sacred to be expressed by human lips, much less to commit it to paper. But what was the state of her feelings on perusing her innocent and unreserved cousin's letter?
Would that she herself had been so confiding, and revealed the state of her heart, which might have prevented her cousin encouraging a hopeless passion. Hopeless, did she say? What if Catherine's love was returned? She was afraid to ask herself the question. Whom could she blame, when she had left without giving a hint of her intended departure? And what would Charlie think of her leaving in company with him who they both hated? Oh, that she could now explain all, and leave the blame at her father's door. It was now too late; the die was cast, and she must be the sufferer. Her fair and unreserved cousin would gain the prize which she herself had thought was safely locked in her own bosom. Yes, it must be so, for Charlie could not but return her ingenuous and charming cousin's love, when his old playfellow did not as much as bid him adieu! She must now bury her disappointment in the gaities around her, and obliterate, in the
