fastidious. I wrote it three times—chastening and subduing the phrases at every rescript; at last, having confected it till it seemed to me to resemble a morsel of ice flavoured with ever so slight a zest of fruit or sugar, I ventured to seal and despatch it."
"Excellent, Paulina! Your instinct is fine; you understand Dr. Bretton."
"But how must I manage about papa? There I am still in pain."
"Do not manage at all. Wait now. Only maintain no further correspondence till your father knows all, and gives his sanction."
"Will he ever give it?"
"Time will show. Wait."
"Dr. Bretton wrote one other letter, deeply grateful for my calm, brief note; but I anticipated your advice, by saying, that while my sentiments continued the same, I could not without my father's knowledge write again."
"You acted as you ought to have done; so Dr. Bretton will feel: it will increase his pride in you, his love for you, if either be capable of increase. Paulina, that gentle hoar-frost of yours, surrounding so much pure, fine flame, is a priceless privilege of nature."
