’Poh! the relations between us were formed only to secure my welfare.  It is secured; it will be secured by my own resolution.’

‘And what is that?’ inquired Dr. Masham.

‘To marry Venetia, if she will accept me.’

‘And that you do not doubt.’

‘We doubt everything when everything is at stake,’ replied Lord Cadurcis.  ’I know that her consent would ensure my happiness; and when I reflect, I cannot help being equally persuaded that it would secure hers.  Her mother, I think, would not be adverse to our union.  And you, my dear sir, what do you think?’

‘I think,’ said Dr. Masham, ’that whoever marries Venetia will marry the most beautiful and the most gifted of God’s creatures; I hope you may marry her; I wish you to marry her; I believe you will marry her, but not yet; you are too young, Lord Cadurcis.’

’Oh, no! my dear Doctor, not too young to marry Venetia.  Remember I have known her all my life, at least so long as I have been able to form an opinion.  How few are the men, my dear Doctor, who are so fortunate as to unite themselves with women whom they have known, as I have known Venetia, for more than seven long years!’

‘During five of which you have never seen or heard of her.’

’Mine was the fault!  And yet I cannot help thinking, as it may probably turn out, as you yourself believe it will turn out, that it is as well that we have been separated for this interval.  It has afforded me opportunities for observation which I should never have enjoyed at Cadurcis; and although my lot either way could not have altered the nature of things, I might have been discontented, I might have sighed for a world which now I do not value.  It is true I have not seen Venetia for five years, but I find her the same, or changed only by nature, and fulfilling all the rich promise which her childhood intimated.  No, my dear Doctor, I respect your opinion more than that of any man living; but nobody, nothing, can persuade me that I am not as intimately acquainted with Venetia’s character, with all her rare virtues, as if we had never separated.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ said the Doctor; ’high as you may pitch your estimate you cannot overvalue her.’

‘Then why should we not marry?’

’Because, my dear friend, although you may be perfectly acquainted with Venetia, you cannot be perfectly acquainted with yourself.’

‘How so?’ exclaimed Lord Cadurcis in a tone of surprise, perhaps a little indignant.

’Because it is impossible.  No young man of eighteen ever possessed such precious knowledge.  I esteem and admire you; I give you every credit for a good heart and a sound head; but it is impossible, at your time of life, that your character can be formed; and, until it be, you may marry Venetia and yet be a very miserable man.’

‘It is formed,’ said his lordship firmly; ’there is not a subject important to a human being on which my opinions are not settled.’