her an account of my adventures, but found little grace in her eyes.
“I quite agree with Eloisa,” she said; “without some particular motive, you would hardly have made use of so improper a conveyance.”
This word improper angered me much—indeed more than there was any occasion for. I endeavoured to set her right in her ideas of propriety, and, in so doing, gave her, as she said, so bad an idea of myself, that she began to doubt whether propriety would allow of her having any farther intercourse with me; saying which, she walked off with a formal bow.
In about half an hour after, Wagen came to me at the hotel.
“My friend,” he exclaimed, “you have brought matters to a fine pass! The aunt has employed all her talents of strife-making against you, and I need not tell you they are of the first order. On the present occasion she seems to be more than usually triumphant; could I have suspected all this I never would have recommended your coming to the Spa to wash off your disgrace, for, as matters stand, you are in
