Such were some of my reflections about this period. I might go on
prosing more and more, I might dive much deeper, and disclose other
thoughts, propose questions the reader might be puzzled to answer,
and deduce arguments that might startle his prejudices, or,
perhaps, provoke his ridicule, because he could not comprehend
them; but I forbear.
Now, therefore, let us return to Miss Murray. She accompanied her
mamma to the ball on Tuesday; of course splendidly attired, and
delighted with her prospects and her charms. As Ashby Park was
nearly ten miles distant from Horton Lodge, they had to set out
pretty early, and I intended to have spent the evening with Nancy
Brown, whom I had not seen for a long time; but my kind pupil took
care I should spend it neither there nor anywhere else beyond the
limits of the schoolroom, by giving me a piece of music to copy,
which kept me closely occupied till bed-time. About eleven next
morning, as soon as she had left her room, she came to tell me her
news. Sir Thomas had indeed proposed to her at the ball; an event
which reflected great credit on her mamma's sagacity, if not upon
her skill in contrivance. I rather incline to the belief that she
had first laid her plans, and then predicted their success. The
offer had been accepted, of course, and the bridegroom elect was
coming that day to settle matters with Mr.
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