what the old think. No, no--that's all nonsense and French convent
work--nothing like a good old English family. So, my dear Mistress
Beaumont, out with it all, and make me one of yourselves, free of the
family from this minute. Here's my hand and heart upon it--an old friend
may presume so far."

This frankness would have opened any heart except Mrs. Beaumont's; but
it is the misfortune of artful people that they cannot believe others to
be artless: either they think simplicity of character folly; or else
they suspect that openness is only affected, as a bait to draw them into
snares. Our heroine balanced for a moment between these two notions. She
could not believe Mr. Palmer to be an absolute fool--no; his having made
such a large fortune forbad that thought. Then he must have thrown
himself thus open merely to _try her_, and to come at the knowledge of
debts and embarrassments, which, if brought to light, would lower his
opinion of the prudence of the family.

"My excellent friend, to be candid with you," she began, "there is no
need of your generosity at present, to relieve my son from any
embarrassments; for I know that he has no debts whatever. And I am
confident he will make my jointure every thing, and more than every
thing, I could desire. And, as to marriages, my Amelia is so young,
there's time enough to consider."

"True, true; and she does well to take time to consider. But though I
don't understand these matters much, she looks mightily like the notion
I have of a girl that's a little bit in love."

"In love! Oh, my dear sir! you don't say so--in love?"