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Rh have asked thee, if he had gone." Poor Jane hid her blushes and her tears on the bosom of her kind, but unskilful comforter. She felt the necessity of saying something; but confessions she could not make, and pretences she never made.

Mr. Lloyd saw and pitied her confusion: he rose, and tenderly placing his hand on her head, he said, "My dear young friend, thou hast wisely and safely guided thy little bark thus far down the stream of life; be still vigilant and prudent, and thou wilt glide unharmed through the dangers that alarm thee." He then relieved Jane from his presence, saying, "I am going to my library, and will send Mary to escort thee home."

Jane could not have borne a plainer statement of her case; and though it was very clear that Mr. Lloyd had detected the lurking weakness of her heart, she was soothed by his figurative mode of insinuating his knowledge and his counsel. Persons of genuine sensibility possess a certain tact, that enables them to touch delicate subjects without giving pain. This touch differs as much from a rude and unfeeling grasp as does the management of a fine instrument in the hands of a skilful surgeon, from the mangling and hacking of a vulgar operator.

Mr. Lloyd had heard the village gossip of Edward Erskine's divided attentions to the cousins. Nothing that concerned Jane was uninteresting to him; and he had watched with eager anxiety the character and conduct of Erskine. He had never liked the young man; but he thought that he had