Amelia.—And, if you did, my father would always take care that you should be well supplied with models.
Oswald.—I suppose he would, as he never lets us want for any thing that could add to our improvement.
Amelia.—Had not the Souvenir better be given to a person that does draw very well,—beautifully, indeed,—but that has no money to buy models?
Oswald.—In one word—Had not the Souvenir better be given to Edwin Lovel?
Amelia.—Yes, since it must be told, that is exactly what I mean.
Oswald.—So I guessed from the beginning. But why did you take such a roundabout way of getting the book put into his possession?
Amelia.—Why, I do not suppose he would accept it from me, a young girl whom he has never seen; but he would be less scrupulous in taking it as your gift, as you are an acquaintance of his.
Oswald.—Say, a friend.
Amelia.—I know you so well, that, after our conversation last night, I was certain, if I gave the book to you, you would present it at once to the poor boy; and I was much disconcerted when you pretended at first that you would keep it always.
Oswald.—Amelia, the book is yours, and the suggestion is yours, and I will not assume to myself more merit than I deserve. If you are determined on giving the Souvenir to Edwin Lovel, the best way is to seal it up in a sheet of white paper addressed to him, and with a few words written on the inside, requesting his acceptance of the book from an unknown admirer of early genius.