stranger, she would never repeat the indiscretion.

But alas! poor Charlotte, she knew not the deceitfulness of her own
heart, or she would have avoided the trial of her stability.

Montraville was tender, eloquent, ardent, and yet respectful. "Shall I
not see you once more," said he, "before I leave England? will you not
bless me by an assurance, that when we are divided by a vast expanse of
sea I shall not be forgotten?"

Charlotte sighed.

"Why that sigh, my dear Charlotte? could I flatter myself that a fear
for my safety, or a wish for my welfare occasioned it, how happy would
it make me."

"I shall ever wish you well, Montraville," said she; "but we must meet
no more." "Oh say not so, my lovely girl: reflect, that when I leave my
native land, perhaps a few short weeks may terminate my existence; the
perils of the ocean--the dangers of war--"

"I can hear no more," said Charlotte in a tremulous voice. "I must leave
you."

"Say you will see me once again."

"I dare not," said she.

"Only for one half hour to-morrow evening: 'tis my last request. I shall
never trouble you again, Charlotte."