Not a little astonished, I looked up in the countenance of the besieger. She was pretty, and sprightly too; but now all mirth had fled, and I fancied a bright tear glittered in her eye. At all events she seemed a good deal agitated. I scarcely knew what to say. I was becoming incredibly nervous. At this moment, fate for once befriended me. We were in W——. The stage had stopped; and I stepped out to aid Corinna in a similar process. As I took her hand, I perceived that she trembled. The spirit of mischief induced me to ask her how she had enjoyed her journey.
There was an embarrassing pause. She looked at me, and sighed, and I repeated the question.
“How can I forget it,” she replied, “when it has caused me to meet one whom I shall never forget?”
This alarmed me considerably; but I could only look sentimental, and give her a parting squeeze. Before our final farewell, however, she gave me an invitation to pay her a visit, which I had not the firmness to resist.
During my rambles round the village for the next few days, I learned that the Wiltons were a highly respectable family of great wealth, and that Corinna was an heiress, who had never made her appearance in the matrimonial market. Though I had not the least intention of taking advantage of my conquest, I considered myself bound in common politeness, to pay her the promised visit. After some little attention to my toilet, I set out for the residence of Mr. Wilton. This personage had formerly been an officer in the Navy; and I was not surprised to find that he was precisely such a bluff, hale-looking old gentleman, as my fancy led me to picture him.
“Sir,” said he, when Corinna had formally introduced me, “I consider you a great young rascal!”
Thunderstruck at such a reception, I answered—“May I ask, what induces you to form such an opinion of me?”
“Damme!” cried the old gentleman, “but you _are_ an impudent dog! Haven’t you stolen my daughter’s heart, without leave or license? But I forgive you, sir, for I was just such a young scoundrel at your age. Didn’t I run away with your mother, Corinna, before I was eighteen? Ah,” continued the ex-officer, “that was a rare adventure! It was, you scapegrace!—what are you gaping at?”
