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92 at your mercy. Make me the most miserable of men, or the most enviable. Enchantress, speak!"

"Really, my Lord," said Lucy, hesitating, yet rising, and freeing herself from his hand, "I feel it difficult to suppose you serious; and perhaps this is merely a gallantry to me, by way of practice on others."

"Sweet Lucy, if I so may call you," answered Mauleverer, with an ardent gaze; "do not, I implore you, even for a moment, affect to mistake me! do not for a moment jest at what, to me, is the bane or bliss of life! Dare I hope that my hand and heart, which I now offer you, are not deserving of your derision!"

Lucy gazed on her adorer with a look of serious enquiry; Brandon still appeared to sleep.

"If you are in earnest, my Lord," said Lucy, after a pause, "I am truly and deeply sorry; for the friend of my uncle I shall always have esteem: believe that I am truly sensible of the honour you render me, when I add my regret, that I can have no other sentiment than esteem."

A blank and puzzled bewilderment, for a