bashful admirer ever experienced, when pressing his suit upon some
haughty belle--but for a far different reason.




CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE PROPOSAL.

On reaching Mrs. Bingham's apartments, we found that she had just left
home to wait upon Mrs. O'Leary, and consequently, that Miss Bingham was
alone. Trevanion, therefore, having wished me a safe deliverance through
my trying mission, shook my hand warmly, and departed.

I stood for some minutes irresolutely, with my hand upon the lock of the
door. To think that the next few moments may decide the fortune of one's
after life, is a sufficiently anxious thought; but that your fate may be
so decided, by compelling you to finish in sorrow what you have begun in
folly, is still more insupportable. Such, then, was my condition. I had
resolved within myself, if the result of this meeting should prove that I
had won Miss Bingham's affections, to propose for her at once in all
form, and make her my wife. If, on the other hand, I only found that she
too had amused herself with a little passing flirtation, why then, I was
a free man once more: but, on catechising myself a little closer, also,
one somewhat disposed to make love de novo.

With the speed of lightning, my mind ran over every passage of our
acquaintance--our first meeting--our solitary walks--our daily, hourly
associations--our travelling intimacy--the adventure at Chantraine;