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of your lost CHARLOTTE.

CHAPTER XXIII.



A MAN MAY SMILE, AND SMILE,

AND BE A VILLAIN.



WHILE Charlotte was enjoying some small degree of comfort

in the consoling friendship of Mrs. Beauchamp, Montraville was



advancing rapidly in his affection towards Miss Franklin.

Julia was an amiable girl; she saw only the fair side of his character;



she possessed an independent fortune, and resolved to be happy

with the man of her heart, though his rank and fortune were by no



means so exalted as she had a right to expect; she saw the passion

which Montraville struggled to conceal; she wondered at his timidity,



but imagined the distance fortune had placed between them occasioned

his backwardness, and made every advance which strict prudence



and a becoming modesty would permit. Montraville saw with pleasure

he was not indifferent to her, but a spark of honour which animated



his bosom would not suffer him to take advantage of her partiality.

He was well acquainted with Charlotte's situation, and he thought



there would be a double cruelty in forsaking her at such a time;

and to marry Miss Franklin, while honour, humanity, every sacred law,



obliged him still to protect and support Charlotte, was a baseness

which his soul shuddered at.



He communicated his uneasiness to Belcour: it was the very

thing this pretended friend had wished. "And do you really,"



said he, laughing, "hesitate at marrying the lovely Julia,

and becoming master of her fortune, because a little foolish,



fond girl chose to leave her friends, and run away with you to America.

Dear Montraville, act more like a man of sense; this whining,



pining Charlotte, who occasions you so much uneasiness, would have

eloped with somebody else if she had not with you."



"Would to heaven," said Montraville, "I had never seen her;

my regard for her was but the momentarypassion of desire, but I



feel I shall love and revere Julia Franklin as long as I live;

yet to leave poor Charlotte in her present situation would be



cruel beyond description."

"Oh my good sentimental friend," said Belcour, "do you imagine



no body has a right to provide for the brat but yourself."

Montraville started. "Sure," said he, "you cannot mean to insinuate



that Charlotte is false."

"I don't insinuate it," said Belcour, "I know it."



Montraville turned pale as ashes. "Then there is no faith

in woman," said he.



"While I thought you attached to her," said Belcour with an air

of indifference, "I never wished to make you uneasy by mentioning



her perfidy, but as I know you love and are beloved by Miss Franklin,

I was determined not to let these foolish scruples of honour step



between you and happiness, or your tenderness for the peace of a

perfidious girl prevent your uniting yourself to a woman of honour."



"Good heavens!" said Montraville, "what poignant reflections

does a man endure who sees a lovely woman plunged in infamy,



and is conscious he was her first seducer; but are you certain

of what you say, Belcour?"



"So far," replied he, "that I myself have received advances from

her which I would not take advantage of out of regard to you:



but hang it, think no more about her. I dined at Franklin's to-day,

and Julia bid me seek and bring you to tea: so come along, my lad,



make good use of opportunity, and seize the gifts of fortune while

they are within your reach." Montraville was too much agitated



to pass a happy evening even in the company of Julia Franklin:

he determined to visit Charlotte early the next morning,



tax her with her falsehood, and take an everlasting leave of her;

but when the morning came, he was commanded on duty, and for six



weeks was prevented from putting his design in execution. At length

he found an hour to spare, and walked out to spend it with Charlotte:



it was near four o'clock in the afternoon when he arrived at her cottage;

she was not in the parlour, and without calling the servant



he walked up stairs, thinking to find her in her bed room.

He opened the door, and the first object that met his eyes was



Charlotte asleep on the bed, and Belcour by her side.




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