magnificent proposal he was about to make, or contemplate with
indifference the rank and fortune he had in his power to bestow.

Mark Hurdlestone was not a man to waver or turn back when his mind was
once fixed upon an object. His will was like fate, inflexible in the
accomplishment of his purpose. He thought long and deeply on a subject,
and pondered over it for days and months, and even for years; but when
he said,--"I will do it," the hand of God alone could hinder him from
performing that which he had resolutely sworn to do.

Having finally resolved to make Elinor Wildegrave his wife (for in spite
of all the revolting traits in his character, he had never for a moment
entertained the idea of possessing her on less honorable terms, rightly
concluding that a man's mistress is always a more expensive appendage
than a man's wife,) he snatched up his hat, and walked with rapid
strides to the cottage.

He neither slackened his pace, nor paused to reflect on the step that he
was about to take, until he unclosed the little wicket-gate that divided
the cottage from the park. Here at length he stopped to gain breath, and
the embarrassment of his situation arose in formidable array against
him. He was a man of few words, naturally diffident of his colloquial
powers, and easily confused and abashed. In what manner was he to
address her? To him the language of flattery and compliment was unknown.
He had never said a polite thing to a woman in his life. Unaccustomed to
the society of ladies, he was still more unaccustomed to woo; how then
was he to unfold the state of his heart to the object of his love? The
longer he pondered over the subject, the more awkward and irresolute he
felt. His usual fortitude forsook him, and he determined to relinquish a
project so ridiculous, or to postpone it to some more favorable moment.