but Charlotte had taken one step in the ways of imprudence;
and when that is once done, there are always innumerable obstacles

to prevent the erring person returning to the path of rectitude:
yet these obstacles, however forcible they may appear in general,

exist chiefly in imagination.
Charlotte feared the anger of her governess: she loved her mother,

and the very idea of incurring her displeasure, gave her
the greatest uneasiness: but there was a more forcible reason

still remaining: should she show the letter to Madame Du Pont,
she must confess the means by which it came into her possession;

and what would be the consequence? Mademoiselle would be turned
out of doors.

"I must not be ungrateful," said she. "La Rue is very kind to me;
besides I can, when I see Montraville, inform him of the impropriety

of our continuing to see or correspond with each other, and request
him to come no more to Chichester."

However prudent Charlotte might be in these resolutions, she certainly
did not take a proper method to confirm herself in them. Several times

in the course of the day, she indulged herself in reading over the letter,
and each time she read it, the contents sunk deeper in her heart.

As evening drew near, she caught herself frequently consulting her watch.
"I wish this foolish meeting was over," said she, by way of apology

to her own heart, "I wish it was over; for when I have seen him,
and convinced him my resolution is not to be shaken, I shall feel

my mind much easier."
The appointed hour arrived. Charlotte and Mademoiselle eluded

the eye of vigilance; and Montraville, who had waited their coming
with impatience, received them with rapturous and unbounded

acknowledgments for their condescension: he had wisely brought
Belcour with him to entertain Mademoiselle, while he enjoyed

an uninterrupted conversation with Charlotte.
Belcour was a man whose character might be comprised in a few words;

and as he will make some figure in the ensuing pages, I shall
here describe him. He possessed a genteel fortune, and had a

liberal education; dissipated, thoughtless, and capricious, he paid
little regard to the moral duties, and less to religious ones:

eager in the pursuit of pleasure, he minded not the miseries
he inflicted on others, provided his own wishes, however extravagant,

were gratified. Self, darling self, was the idol he worshipped,
and to that he would have sacrificed the interest and happiness

of all mankind. Such was the friend of Montraville:
will not the reader be ready to imagine, that the man who could

regard such a character, must be actuated by the same feelings,
follow the same pursuits, and be equallyunworthy with the person

to whom he thus gave his confidence?
But Montraville was a different character: generous in his disposition,

liberal in his opinions, and good-natured almost to a fault;
yet eager and impetuous in the pursuit of a favorite object,

he staid not to reflect on the consequence which might follow
the attainment of his wishes; with a mind ever open to conviction,

had he been so fortunate as to possess a friend who would have pointed
out the cruelty of endeavouring to gain the heart of an innocent

artless girl, when he knew it was utterly impossible for him to marry her,
and when the gratification of his passion would be unavoidable infamy

and misery to her, and a cause of never-ceasing remorse to himself:
had these dreadfulconsequences been placed before him in a proper light,

the humanity of his nature would have urged him to give up the pursuit:
but Belcour was not this friend; he rather encouraged the growing passion

of Montraville; and being pleased with the vivacity of Mademoiselle,
resolved to leave no argument untried, which he thought might prevail

on her to be the companion of their intended voyage; and he made
no doubt but her example, added to the rhetoric of Montraville,

would persuade Charlotte to go with them.
Charlotte had, when she went out to meet Montraville, flattered herself

that her resolution was not to be shaken, and that, conscious of
the impropriety of her conduct in having a clandestine intercourse

with a stranger, she would never repeat the indiscretion.
But alas! poor Charlotte, she knew not the deceitfulness of her

own heart, or she would have avoided the trial of her stability.
Montraville was tender, eloquent, ardent, and yet respectful.

"Shall I not see you once more," said he, "before I leave England?
will you not bless me by an assurance, that when we are divided

by a vast expanse of sea I shall not be forgotten?"
Charlotte sighed.

"Why that sigh, my dear Charlotte? could I flatter myself that
a fear for my safety, or a wish for my welfare occasioned it,

how happy would it make me."
"I shall ever wish you well, Montraville," said she; "but we must meet

no more." "Oh say not so, my lovely girl: reflect, that when I leave
my native land, perhaps a few short weeks may terminate my existence;

the perils of the ocean--the dangers of war--"
"I can hear no more," said Charlotte in a tremulous voice.

"I must leave you."
"Say you will see me once again."

"I dare not," said she.
"Only for one half hour to-morrow evening: 'tis my last request.

I shall never trouble you again, Charlotte."
"I know not what to say," cried Charlotte, struggling to draw her

hands from him: "let me leave you now. "
"And you will come to-morrow," said Montraville.

"Perhaps I may," said she.
"Adieu then. I will live upon that hope till we meet again."

He kissed her hand. She sighed an adieu, and catching hold
of Mademoiselle's arm, hastily entered the garden gate.

CHAPTER X.
WHEN WE HAVE EXCITED

CURIOSITY, IT IS BUT AN ACT OF
GOOD NATURE TO GRATIFY IT.

MONTRAVILLE was the youngest son of a gentleman of fortune,
whose family being numerous, he was obliged to bring up his sons

to genteelprofessions, by the exercise of which they might hope
to raise themselves into notice.

"My daughters," said he, "have been educated like gentlewomen;
and should I die before they are settled, they must have some

provision made, to place them above the snares and temptations
which vice ever holds out to the elegant, accomplished female,

when oppressed by the frowns of poverty and the sting of dependance:
my boys, with only moderateincomes, when placed in the church, at the bar,

or in the field, may exert their talents, make themselves friends,
and raise their fortunes on the basis of merit."

When Montraville chose the profession of arms, his father
presented him with a commission, and made him a handsome provision

for his private purse. "Now, my boy," said he, 'go! seek glory
in the field of battle. You have received from me all I shall

ever have it in my power to bestow: it is certain I have interest
to gain you promotion; but be assured that interest shall

never be exerted, unless by your future conduct you deserve it.
Remember, therefore, your success in life depends entirely on yourself.

There is one thing I think it my duty to caution you against;
the precipitancy with which young men frequently rush into

matrimonial engagements, and by their thoughtlessness draw
many a deserving woman into scenes of poverty and distress.

A soldier has no business to think of a wife till his rank is such
as to place him above the fear of bringing into the world a train

of helpless innocents, heirs only to penury and affliction.
If, indeed, a woman, whose fortune is sufficient to preserve

you in that state of independence I would teach you to prize,
should generously bestow herself on a young soldier, whose chief

hope of future prosperity depended on his success in the field--
if such a woman should offer--every barrier is removed, and I

should rejoice in an union which would promise so much felicity.
But mark me, boy, if, on the contrary, you rush into a precipitate

union with a girl of little or no fortune, take the poor creature from
a comfortable home and kind friends, and plunge her into all the evils

a narrow income and increasing family can inflict, I will leave you
to enjoy the blessed fruits of your rashness; for by all that is sacred,