in vain that Mr. Tyrrel endeavoured to restrain the ruggedness of his
character. His motive was impatience, his thoughts were gloomy, and his
courtship was like the pawings of an elephant. It appeared as if his
temper had been more human while he indulged in its free bent, than now
that he sullenly endeavoured to put fetters upon its excesses.

Among the ladies of the village-assembly already mentioned, there was
none that seemed to engage more of the kindness of Mr. Tyrrel than Miss
Hardingham. She was also one of the few that had not yet gone over to
the enemy, either because she really preferred the gentleman who was her
oldest acquaintance, or that she conceived from calculation this conduct
best adapted to insure her success in a husband. One day, however, she
thought proper, probably only by way of experiment, to show Mr. Tyrrel
that she could engage in hostilities, if he should at any time give her
sufficient provocation. She so adjusted her manoeuvres as to be engaged
by Mr. Falkland as his partner for the dance of the evening, though
without the smallest intention on the part of that gentleman (who was
unpardonably deficient in the sciences of anecdote and match-making) of
giving offence to his country neighbour. Though the manners of Mr.
Falkland were condescending and attentive, his hours of retirement were
principally occupied in contemplations too dignified for scandal, and
too large for the altercations of a vestry, or the politics of an
election-borough.

A short time before the dances began, Mr. Tyrrel went up to his fair
inamorata, and entered into some trifling conversation with her to fill
up the time, as intending in a few minutes to lead her forward to the
field. He had accustomed himself to neglect the ceremony of soliciting
beforehand a promise in his favour, as not supposing it possible that
any one would dare dispute his behests; and, had it been otherwise, he