Perhaps the reader may feel some surprise at the change in Miss Sallianna's demeanor toward the young man, the fact of whose existence she had scarcely noticed on the occasion of their first meeting in the garden. The explanation will be neither lengthy nor difficult. Miss Sallianna was one of those ladies who have so profound an admiration for nature, beauty, love, and everything elevated and ennobling, that they are fond of discussing these topics with the opposite sex—exchanging ideas, and comparing opinions, no doubt for the purpose of arriving at sound conclusions upon these interesting subjects. If, in the course of these conversations, the general discussion became particular and personal—if, in a word, the gentleman was induced to regard the lady as an example of the beauties they were talking about, in nature, love, etc., Miss Sallianna did not complain, and even seemed somewhat pleased thereof. Of course there would have been no profit or entertainment in discussing these recondite subjects with a savage such as Verty had appeared to be upon their former interview, when, with his long, tangled hair, hunter's garb, and old slouched hat, he resembled an inhabitant of the backwoods—what could such a personage know of divine philosophy, or what pleasure could a lady take in his society?—no pleasure, evidently. But now that was all changed. The young gentleman now presented a civilized appearance; he was plainly becoming more cultivated, and his education, Miss Sallianna argued, should not be neglected by his lady acquaintances. Who wonders at such reasoning? Is this the only instance which has ever been known? Do sentimental ladies of an uncertain age always refuse to take charge of the growing hearts of innocent and handsome youths, just becoming initiated in the mysteries of the tender passion? Or do they not most willingly assume the onerous duty of directing the naive instincts of such youthful cavaliers into proper channels and toward worthy objects—even occasionally, from their elevated regard, present themselves as the said "worthy objects" for the youthful affection? Queenly and most lovely dames of uncertain age, and tender instincts, it is not the present chronicler who will so far forget his reputation for gallantry, as to assert that "I should like to marry" is your favorite madrigal.
Therefore let it be distinctly understood and remembered, as a thing necessary and indispensable to the true comprehension of this veracious history, that the beautiful Miss Sallianna was not attracted by Verty's handsome dress, his fashionable coat, rosetted shoes, well powdered hair, or embroidered waistcoat gently rubbing against the spotless frill—that these things did not enter into her mind when she resolved to attach the young man to her suit, and turn his affection and "esteem" toward herself. By no means;—she saw in him only a handsome young fellow, whose education could not prosper under the supervision of such a mere child as Redbud; and thus she found herself called upon to superintend it in her proper person, and for that purpose now designed to commence initiating the youthful cavalier into the science of the heart without delay.
These few words may probably serve to explain the unusual favor with which Miss Sallianna seemed to regard Verty—the empressement with which she gently fanned his agitated brow—the fascinating smile which she threw upon him, a smile which seemed to say, "Come! confide your sorrows to a sympathizing heart."
Verty, preoccupied with his sad reflections, for some moments remained silent. Miss Sallianna broke the pause by saying—
"You seem to be annoyed by something, Mr. Verty. Need I repeat that in me you will find a friend of philosophic partiality and undue influence to repose your confidential secrets in?"
Verty sighed.
"Oh! that is a bad sign," said the lady, simpering.
"What, ma'am?" asked Verty, raising his head.
"That sigh."
"I don't feel very well."