far won upon his confidence as to extract from him the way in which the miniature he had seen him wear had fallen into his possession, as also the cause of his wearing it,—springing, as he was informed, from the juvenile partiality he had indulged in for Rosilia, as also the childish promise he had extorted from her never to unite herself to any one but himself. Though conceiving, such a promise, innocently made during her unreflective years, not in any sense obligatory, yet he had felt flattered by it; her words of consent had ever left their impression on his heart; and his mother, devoted to his interests, had bound herself to do all in her power towards procuring him a successful issue to his hopes.
Such was the short, simple, and ingenuous tale of Herbert; and which, in some degree, removed from Douglas much restless and impatient curiosity.
However the plans of the mother might tend to advance her son's interest, he felt assured they could not but be attended with failure. Douglas also felt an inward gratification upon finding that Herbert had laid aside the picture of which at one time he had so ardently coveted the possession—but now no longer, since he discovered it was but a mere resemblance, and not an original
