THE RIVALS. 43 



however, in all the circumstances of the case, have been a matter of 

 imprudence in me to have proposed immediate marriage, or to have 

 solicited her hand against any future period, when the distance of 

 space and time by which we were to be separated from each other 

 placed us both within the probable influence of so many and such 

 important contingencies which neither of us could control, I deemed 

 it the wisest course for me to pursue not to divulge even to herself or 

 to any other individual under heaven that I regarded her with any 

 other feelings than those of common friendship. 



It was in the month of June, 18 , that I set out for Hadlow, a 

 small town in one of the States of North America. In the course of 

 my voyage nothing of a striking or extraordinary character occurred ; 

 and, in'something less than seven weeks from the day on which I left 

 my native village, I safely reached the place of my destination. 



As there were no incidents of a romantic nature associated with my 

 residence on the other side of the Atlantic, it will not be necessary to 

 detain the reader with an account of it. It may be sufficient to men- 

 tion that during the eight years I was absent from my native country 

 the image of Matilda was frequently before my mind's eye amid the 

 ordiriarv occupations of the day, and was often present to my imagi- 

 nation, beaming in all its unrivalled loveliness, when fast locked in 

 the embraces of Morpheus during the silence of midnight. Still, 

 however, although I had frequent correspondence with the two young 

 friends to whom I have already more than once referred, I carefully 

 abstained from making any enquiries at them or at any one else re- 

 specting Matilda, simply because, as already mentioned, no second 

 party in existence had any idea of the place she occupied in my af- 

 fections. It so happened, therefore, that notwithstanding the deep 

 interest I felt in^Matilda I did not hear a single syllable in reference 

 to her during- the long period, more than seven years, I had been in 

 a foreign country. About this time, however, I received a letter 

 from my parents, in which, after mentioning several other matters of 

 local intelligence, they stated, "Your old acquaintance, Miss Matilda 

 Gordon, is well, and still unmarried." Those only who have felt the 

 operation of a love at once ardent and honourable can form any con- 

 ception of the supreme gratification this laconic sentence administered 

 to my mind. It had to me a power, an eloquence, and a charm such as 

 no other piece of human composition I had ever met with possessed. 

 Frequent indeed were the perusals I gave it. I could not, in fact, 

 withdraw my eyes from it ; and every fresh perusal of it added a 

 cubit to my happiness. Never before did I experience, never since 

 have I experienced, and I feel an immovable conviction pressing on 

 my mind that I never shall in future experience I mean so long 

 in this world the felicity I then enjoyed. I had not, before I first 

 gazed on the words which constitute the short sentence in question, 

 any idea of how much bliss human nature, notwithstanding all the 

 imperfections and infirmities which attach to it, is susceptible in this 

 world. 



A short time prior to the date at which I received the letter alluded 

 to my employers had made proposals to me to enter into partnership 

 with them, after the lapse of six months from the time at which 



