than any thing in the world beside. I thought that you would for my sake
have braved the dangers of the ocean, that you would, by your affection
and smiles, have softened the hardships of war, and, had it been my fate
to fall, that your tenderness would cheer the hour of death, and smooth
my passage to another world. But farewel, Charlotte! I see you never
loved me. I shall now welcome the friendly ball that deprives me of the
sense of my misery."

"Oh stay, unkind Montraville," cried she, catching hold of his arm, as
he pretended to leave her, "stay, and to calm your fears, I will here
protest that was it not for the fear of giving pain to the best of
parents, and returning their kindness with ingratitude, I would follow
you through every danger, and, in studying to promote your happiness,
insure my own. But I cannot break my mother's heart, Montraville; I must
not bring the grey hairs of my doating grand-father with sorrow to the
grave, or make my beloved father perhaps curse the hour that gave me
birth." She covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.

"All these distressing scenes, my dear Charlotte," cried Montraville,
"are merely the chimeras of a disturbed fancy. Your parents might
perhaps grieve at first; but when they heard from your own hand that you
was with a man of honour, and that it was to insure your felicity by an
union with him, to which you feared they would never have given their
assent, that you left their protection, they will, be assured, forgive
an error which love alone occasioned, and when we return from America,
receive you with open arms and tears of joy."

Belcour and Mademoiselle heard this last speech, and conceiving it
a proper time to throw in their advice and persuasions, approached
Charlotte, and so well seconded the entreaties of Montraville, that