life, and the portraits of his worthy companions were yet fresh in her
view, Buckhurst Falconer took the unhappy moment to write to renew his
declaration of passionate attachment to Caroline, and to beg to be
permitted to wait upon her once more.

From the indignant blush which mounted in Caroline's face on reading his
letter, Rosamond saw how unlikely it was that this request should be
granted. It came, indeed, at an unlucky time. Rosamond could not refrain
from a few words of apology, and looks of commiseration for Buckhurst; yet
she entirely approved of Caroline's answer to his letter, and the steady
repetition of her refusal, and even of the strengthened terms in which
it was now expressed. Rosamond was always prudent for her friends, when
it came to any serious point where their interests or happiness were
concerned. Her affection for her friends, and her fear of doing wrong on
such occasions, awakened her judgment, and so controlled her imagination,
that she then proved herself uncommonly judicious and discreet.--Prudence
had not, it is true, been a part of Rosamond's character in childhood;
but, in the course of her education, a considerable portion of it had been
infused by a very careful and skilful hand. Perhaps it had never completely
assimilated with the original composition: sometimes the prudence fell to
the bottom, sometimes was shaken to the top, according to the agitation or
tranquillity of her mind; sometimes it was so faintly visible, that its
existence might be doubted by the hasty observer; but when put to a proper
test, it never failed to reappear in full force.--After any effort of
discretion in conduct, Rosamond, however, often relieved and amused herself
by talking in favour of the imprudent side of the question.

"You have decided prudently, my dear Caroline, I acknowledge," said she.
"But now your letter is fairly gone; now that it is all over, and that
we are safe, I begin to think you are a little too prudent for your