"'Poor Mr. Manners!' Harriet said; 'I am afraid I was very rude to him.
He had to console himself with you, eh, Dolly?--on the principle of love
me love my dog, I suppose?'

"Am I so conceited that this had never struck me? And yet--but here
comes Harriet, and I must put you away, dear diary. I blush at my
voluminousness. If every evening is to take up so many pages, my book
will be full at Midsummer! But was not this a red-letter day?"

Well may I blush, dear Nell, to re-read this girlish nonsense. And yet
it contains not the least strange part of this strange story--poor Mr.
Manners' presentiment of evil. After this he called constantly, and we
met him often in society; and, blinded by I know not what delusion,
Harriet believed him to be devoted to herself, up to the period, as I
fancy, when he asked me to be his wife. I was staying with the Tophams
at the time. I believe that they had asked me there on purpose, being
his friends. Ah, George! what a happy time that was! How, in the sweet
days of the sweetest of summers, I laughed at your "presentiment"! How
you told me that the joy had come, and, reminding me of my own sermon on
the chequered nature of life, asked if the sorrow would yet tread it
down. Too soon, my love! too soon!

Nelly! forgive me this outburst. I must write more calmly. It is sad to
speak ill of a sister; but surely it was cruel, that she, who had so
many lovers, should grudge me my happiness; should pursue George with
such unreasonable malice; should rouse the senseless but immovable
obstinacy of our poor brother against him. Oh, Eleanor! think of my
position! Our father and mother dead; under the care of our only
brother, who, as you know, dear Nell, was at one time feared to be a
complete idiot, and had, poor boy! only so much sense as to make him