CHAPTER II.

OTTILIA IN PARTICULAR.


Some kind critic who peruses these writings will, doubtless, have the
goodness to point out that the simile of the Mediterranean heath is
applied to two personages in this chapter--to Ottilia and Dorothea, and
say, Psha! the fellow is but a poor unimaginative creature not to be
able to find a simile apiece at least for the girls; how much better
would WE have done the business!

Well, it is a very pretty simile. The girls were rivals, were beautiful,
I loved them both,--which should have the sprig of heath? Mr. Cruikshank
(who has taken to serious painting) is getting ready for the exhibition
a fine piece, representing Fitz-Boodle on the Urrisbeg Mountain, county
Galway, Ireland, with a sprig of heath in his hand, hesitating, like
Paris, on which of the beauties he should bestow it. In the background
is a certain animal between two bundles of hay; but that I take to
represent the critic, puzzled to which of my young beauties to assign
the choice.

If Dorothea had been as rich as Miss Coutts, and had come to me the next
day after the accident at the ball and said, "George, will you marry
me?" it must not be supposed I would have done any such thing. THAT
dream had vanished for ever: rage and pride took the place of love; and
the only chance I had of recovering from my dreadful discomfiture was
by bearing it bravely, and trying, if possible, to awaken a little
compassion in my favor. I limped home (arranging my scheme with great