"Are you sincere, Mr. Constantine?" cried Lady Sara, now smiling with pleasure.
"Indeed I am, and happy if my explanation have met with your ladyship's approbation."
"Mr. Constantine," resumed she, "I have no motive but one in my discourse with you,—friendship." And casting her eyes down, she sighed profoundly.
"Your ladyship does me honor."
"I would have you to regard me with the same confidence that you do Lady Tinemouth. My father possesses the first patronage in this country, I therefore have it a thousand times more in my power than she has to render you a service."
Here her ladyship overshot herself; she had not calculated well on the nature of the mind she wished to ensnare.
"I am grateful to your generosity," replied Thaddeus, "but on this head I must decline your kind offices. Whilst I consider myself the subject of one king, though he be in a prison, I cannot accept of any employment under another who is in alliance with his enemies."
Lady Sara discovered her error the moment he had made his answer; and, in a disappointed tone, exclaimed, "Then you despise my friendship!"
"No, Lady Sara; it is an honor far beyond my merits; and any gratitude to Lady Tinemouth must be doubled when I recollect that I possess such honor through her means."
"Well," cried her ladyship, "have that as you will; but I expect, as a specimen of your confidence in me, you will be wary of Euphemia Dundas. I know she is artful and vain; she finds amusement in attracting the affections of men; and then, notwithstanding her affected sensibility, she turns them into a subject for laughter."