_Everg._ My dear master! I confess my want of duty. Alas! I had not courage to go there.

_Sir Philip._ Ah!

_Everg._ Nay, forgive me! wiser than I have felt such terrors.--The apartments have been carefully locked up; the keys not a moment from my possession:--here they are.

_Sir Philip._ Then the task remains with me. Dreadful thought! I can well pardon thy fears, old man.--O! could I wipe from my memory that hour, when--

_Everg._ Hush! your daughter.

_Sir Philip._ Leave me--we'll speak anon. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN.

_Enter_ MISS BLANDFORD.

_Miss B._ Dear father! I came the moment I heard you wished to see me.

_Sir Philip._ My good child, thou art the sole support that props my feeble life. I fear my wish for thy company deprives thee of much pleasure.

_Miss B._ Oh no! what pleasure can be equal to that of giving you happiness? Am I not rewarded in seeing your eyes beam with pleasure on me?

_Sir Philip._ 'Tis the pale reflection of the l.u.s.tre I see sparkling there.--But, tell me, did your lover gain the prize?

_Miss B._ Yes, papa.

_Sir Philip._ Few men of his rank--

_Miss B._ Oh! you mean Mr. Handy?

_Sir Philip._ Yes.

_Miss B._ No; he did not.

_Sir Philip._ Then, whom did _you_ mean?

_Miss B._ Did you say lover? I--I mistook.--No--a young man called Henry obtained the prize.

_Sir Philip._ And how did Mr. Handy succeed?

_Miss B._ Oh! It was so ridiculous!--I will tell you, papa, what happened to him.

_Sir Philip._ To Mr. Handy?

_Miss B._ Yes; as soon as the contest was over Henry presented himself.

I was surprised at seeing a young man so handsome and elegant as Henry is.--Then I placed the medal round Henry's neck, and was told, that poor Henry--

_Sir Philip._ Henry!--So, my love, this is your account of Mr. Robert Handy!

_Miss B._ Yes, papa--no, papa--he came afterwards, dressed so ridiculously, that even Henry could not help smiling.

_Sir Philip._ Henry again!

_Miss B._ Then we had a dance.

_Sir Philip._ Of course you danced with your lover?

_Miss B._ Yes, papa.

_Sir Philip._ How does Mr. Handy dance?

_Miss B._ Oh! he did not dance till--

_Sir Philip._ You danced with your lover?

_Miss B._ Yes--no papa!--Somebody said (I don't know who) that I ought to dance with Henry, because--

_Sir Philip._ Still Henry! Oh! some rustic boy. My dear child, you talk as if you loved this Henry.

_Miss B._ Oh! no, papa--and I am certain he don't love me.

_Sir Philip._ Indeed!

_Miss B._ Yes, papa; for, when he touched my hand, he trembled as if I terrified him; and instead of looking at me as you do, who I am sure love me, when our eyes met, he withdrew his and cast them on the ground.

_Sir Philip._ And these are the reasons, which make you conclude he does not love you?

_Miss B._ Yes, papa.

_Sir Philip._ And probably you could adduce proof equally convincing that you don't love him?

_Miss B._ Oh, yes--quite; for in the dance he sometimes paid attention to other young women, and I was so angry with him! Now, you know, papa, I love you--and I am sure I should not have been angry with you had you done so.

_Sir Philip._ But one question more--Do you think Mr. Handy loves you?

_Miss B._ I have never thought about it, papa.

_Sir Philip._ I am satisfied.

_Miss B._ Yes, I knew I should convince you.

_Sir Philip._ Oh, love; malign and subtle tyrant, how falsely art thou painted blind! 'tis thy votaries are so; for what but blindness can prevent their seeing thy poisoned shaft, which is for ever doomed to rankle in the victim's heart.

_Miss B._ Oh! now I am certain I am not in love; for I feel no rankling at my heart. I feel the softest, sweetest sensation I ever experienced.

But, papa, you must come to the lawn. I don't know why, but to-day nature seems enchanting; the birds sing more sweetly, and the flowers give more perfume.

_Sir Philip._ [_Aside._] Such was the day my youthful fancy pictured!--How did it close!

_Miss B._ I promised Henry your protection.

_Sir Philip._ Indeed! that was much. Well I will see your rustic here.