exaggerations and perversions of the truth, if not entirely false—things derogatory to him, and flattering to them—especially to Miss Murray—which I burned to contradict, or, at least, to show my doubts about, but dared not, lest, in expressing my disbelief, I should display my interest too.
Other things I heard, which I felt or feared were indeed too true; but I must still conceal my anxiety respecting him, my indignation against them beneath a careless aspect; others again—mere hints of something said or done, which I longed to hear more of—but could not venture to inquire.
So passed the weary time. I could not even comfort myself with saying, "She will soon be married; and then, there may be hope."
Soon after her marriage the holidays would come; and when I returned from home, most likely, Mr. Weston would be gone, for, I was told that he and the rector could not agree, (the rector's fault, of course,) and he was about to remove to another place.
"No—besides my hope in God, my only consolation was in thinking that, though he knew it not, I was more worthy of his love than Rosalie Murray, charming and engaging
