She looked back as well as she could; but it was all confusion. She had taken up the idea, she supposed and made everything bend to it.

Yet there it was not love. It was a little fever of admiration; but it might, probably must, end in love with some

Mrs. Jennings was a widow, with an ample jointure. She had only two daughters, both of whom she had lived to see respectably married, and she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the world.

She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting. Perhaps indifferent, if indifference could exist under such circumstances. He must be either indifferent or unwilling. Has he wished ever to see her again, he need not have waited till this time; he would have done what she could not but believe that in his place she should have done long ago, when events had been early giving him the indepencence which alone had been wanting.

I might as well enquire,” replied she, “why with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?

How wonderful, how very wonderful the operations of time, and the changes of the human mind!

I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.