It was a thunderbolt to him, to hear Beatrice acknowledge herself
positively engaged, and yet wilfully resolve to encourage his
attentions, and thus trifle with his feelings. Before Beatrice came,
he had been much pleased with the unaffected manner of Ethelind, whose
character he highly respected; but her reserve made him conclude she
was indifferent to him, but how did she rise in his estimation, as he
heard the conversation. Not a word of her advice to Beatrice was lost
on him, and he only wondered he had not done her more justice; how
grateful he felt for the noble indignation she expressed at her
friend's levity, and the honest warmth with which she took his part,
and strove, as it were, to prevent his being betrayed by the heartless
coquetry of Beatrice. He regarded all that had occurred as a special
intervention of Providence to save him from future misery. His regard
for Beatrice was daily increasing and believing her good and amiable,
he desired to win the affection, which he fully thought was
reciprocal; and how did the discovery of her treachery dash the cup of
happiness from his lips; but as it was because he believed her truly
amiable that he loved her, he thought, now the veil was drawn aside,
he should soon get over his disappointment. But, unworthy as she was,
she had so entwined herself in his heart, that it was no easy task to
tear her image from it--however, he was strong-minded, and soon
reflected that instead of grieving, he ought to be thankful for his
escape. Ethelind saw he was wretched, and fancied Beatrice was, some
how or other, the cause. She pitied him, and prayed for him, but it
was all she could do; but she was not sorry to hear Beatrice say she
had an invitation to Miss Fulton's wedding, which she was determined
to accept. The night previous to her departure, Mr. Barclay, unasked,
remained to tea, and when he took leave, he put a letter into the hand
of Beatrice, which she slipped into her pocket, she thought, unseen by