five years old. I assure you, I was rejoiced to get her away before Mr.
Palmer came, for a new eye coming into a family sees so much one
wouldn't wish to be seen. You know it would be terrible to have the poor
young creature _commit_ and expose herself to a stranger so early in
life. Indeed, as it is, I am persuaded no one will ever think of
marrying her, if you do not.----In worldly prudence--but of that she has
not an atom--in worldly prudence she might do better, or as well,
certainly; for her fortune will be very considerable. Sir John means to
add to it, when he gets the Wigram estate; and the old uncle, Wigram,
can't live for ever. But poor Albina, I dare swear, does not know what
fortune she is to have, nor what you have. Love! love! all for
love!--and all in vain. She is certainly very much to be pitied."

Longer might Mrs. Beaumont have continued in monologue, without danger
of interruption from her son, who stood resolved to hear the utmost sum
of all that she should say on the subject. Never interrupting her, he
only filled certain pauses, that seemed expectant of reply, with the
phrases--"I am very sorry, indeed, ma'am"--and, "Really, ma'am, it is
out of my power to help it." But Mrs. Beaumont observed that the latter
phrase had been omitted as she proceeded--and "_I am very sorry indeed,
ma'am,_" he repeated less as words of course, and more and more as if
they came from the heart. Having so far, successfully, as she thought,
worked upon her son's good-nature, and seeing her daughter through the
trees coming towards them, she abruptly exclaimed, "Promise me, at all
events, dearest Edward, I conjure you; promise me that you will not make
proposals _any where else_, without letting me know of it
beforehand,--and give me time," joining her hands in a supplicating
attitude, "give me but a few weeks, to prepare my poor little Albina for
this sad, sad stroke!"