`I know nothing positive respecting his character. I only know that I have heard nothing definitive against it--nothing that could be proved, at least; and till people can prove their slanderous accusations, I will not believe them. And I know this, that if he has committed errors, they are only such as are common to youth, and such as nobody thinks anything about; for I see that everybody likes him, and all the mammas smile upon him, and thee daughters--and Miss Wilmot herself--are only too glad to attract his attention.'

`Helen, the world may look upon such offences as venial; a few unprincipled mothers may be anxious to catch a young man of fortune without reference to his character; and thoughtless girls may be glad to win the smiles of so handsome a gentleman without seeking to penetrate beyond the surface; but you, I trusted, were better informed than to see with their eyes, and judge with their perverted judgment. I did not think you would call these venial errors!'

`Nor do I, aunt; but if I hate the sins I love the sinner, and would do much for Ills salvation, even supposing your suspicions to be mainly true--which I do not and will not believe.'

`Well, my dear, ask your uncle what sort of company he keeps and if he is not banded with a set of loose, profligate young men, whom he calls his friends--his jolly companions, and whose chief delight is to wallow in vice, and vie with each other who can run fastest and farthest down the headlong road to the place prepared for the devil and his angels.'

`Then I will save him from them.'

`Oh, Helen, Helen! you little know the misery of uniting your fortunes to such a man!'

`I have such confidence in him, aunt, notwithstanding all you say, that I would willingly risk my happiness for the chance of securIng his. I will leave better men to those who only consider their own advantage. If he has done amiss, I shall consider my life well spent in saving him from the consequences of his early errors, and striving to recall him to the path of virtue--God grant me success!'

Here the Conversation ended, for at this juncture, my uncle's voice was heard from his chamber, loudly calling upon my aunt to come to bed. He was in a bad humour that night; for his gout was worse. It had been gradually increasing upon him ever since we came to town; and my aunt took advantage of the circumstance, next morning, to persuade him to return to the country immediately, without waiting for the close of the season. His physician supported and enforced her arguments; and contrary to her usual habits, she so hurried the preparations for removal (as much for my sake as my uncle's, I think), that in a very few days we departed; and I saw no more of Mr Huntingdon. My aunt flatters herself I shall soon forget him--perhaps she I have forgotten him already, for I never mention his name; and she may continue to think so, till we meet again,--if ever that should be. I wonder if it will.