in vain did I represent the dangerous system of conduct which she now pursued, and urge her to accept, before it was too late, the hand and heart which were devoted to her service.  That, she said, she purposed ere long to do, and hoped amply to reward my faithful love; but she could not fix the time this evening.  She must consider a little further, and likewise consult her mother.  “Is it not Major Sanford whom you wish to consult, madam?” said I. She blushed, and gave me no answer.  “Tell me, Eliza,” I continued, “tell me frankly, if he has not supplanted me in your affections—­if he be not the cause of my being thus evasively, thus cruelly, treated.”  “Major Sanford, sir,” replied she, “has done you no harm.  He is a particular friend of mine, a polite gentleman, and an agreeable neighbor, and therefore I treat him with civility; but he is not so much interested in my concerns as to alter my disposition towards any other person.”  “Why,” said I, “do you talk of friendship with a man of his character?  Between his society and mine there is a great contrast.  Such opposite pursuits and inclinations cannot be equally pleasing to the same taste.  It is, therefore, necessary that you renounce the one to enjoy the other; I will give you time to decide which.  I am going to a friend’s house to spend the night, and will call on you to-morrow, if agreeable, and converse with you further upon the matter.”  She bowed assent, and I retired.

The next afternoon I went, as agreed, and found her mamma and her alone in the parlor.  She was very pensive, and appeared to have been in tears.  The sight affected me.  The idea of having treated her harshly the evening before disarmed me of my resolution to insist on her decision that day.  I invited her to ride with me and visit a friend, to which she readily consented.  We spent our time agreeably.  I forbore to press her on the subject of our future union, but strove rather to soothe her mind, and inspire her with sentiments of tenderness towards me.  I conducted her home, and returned early in the evening to my friend’s, who met me at the door, and jocosely told me that he expected that I should now rob them of their agreeable neighbor.  “But,” added he, “we have been apprehensive that you would be rivalled if you delayed your visit much longer.”  “I did not suspect a rival,” said I.  “Who can the happy man be?” “I can say nothing from personal observation,” said he; “but fame, of late, has talked loudly of Major Sanford and Miss Wharton.  Be not alarmed,” continued he, seeing me look grave; “I presume no harm is intended; the major is a man of gallantry, and Miss Wharton is a gay lady; but I dare say that your connection will be happy, if it be formed” I noticed a particular emphasis on the word if; and, as we were alone, I followed him with questions till the whole affair was developed.  I informed him of my embarrassment, and he gave me to understand that Eliza’s conduct had, for some time past,