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“Well, then, persuade Lord George to send back his man; and you’ll acknowledge, my lord, in that case it’s a drawn bet,” said Dashwood.

“I! not I. I’ll acknowledge nothing,” replied his lordship; and he swore his black Tom should not be sent away: “he’s a capital boatman, and I can’t do without him.”

“Den I won’t stir,” said mademoiselle, passionately, to Dashwood.

“Then I must carry you, must I?” cried Dashwood, laughing; and immediately, to Mr. Mountague’s amazement, a romping scene ensued between this tutor and governess, which ended in Dashwood’s carrying mademoiselle in his arms into the boat, amidst the secret derision of two footmen, and the undisguised laughter of black Tom, who were spectators of the scene.

Mr. Mountague trembled at the thoughts of receiving a wife from the hands of a Mlle. Panache; but, turning his eye upon Lady Augusta, he thought she blushed, and this blush at once saved her, in his opinion, and increased his indignation against her governess. Mademoiselle being now alarmed, and provoked by the laughter of the servants, the dry sarcastic manner of Lord George, the cool air of Mr. Mountague, and the downcast looks of her pupil, suddenly turned to Dashwood, and in a high angry tone assured him, “that she had never seen nobody have so much assurance;” and she demanded, furiously–“how he could ever tink to take such liberties wid her? Only tell me how you could dare to tink of it?”

“I confess I did not think as I ought to have done, mademoiselle,” replied Dashwood, looking an apology to Lady Augusta, which, however, he took great care mademoiselle should not observe. “But your bet, my lord, if you please,” added he, attempting to turn it off in a joke: “there was no scream–my bet’s fairly won.”

“I assure you, sir, dis won’t do: it’s no good joke, I promise you. Ma chere amie, mon coeur,” cried mademoiselle to Lady Augusta–” viens — come, let us go–Don’t touch that,” pursued she, roughly, to black Tom, who was going to draw away the plank that led to the shore. “I will go home dis minute, and speak to Miladi S—-. Viens! viens, ma chere amie! “–and she darted out of the boat, whilst Dashwood followed, in vain attempting to stop her. She prudently, however, took the longest way through the park, that she might have a full opportunity of listening to reason, as Dashwood called it; and before she reached home, she was perfectly convinced of the expediency of moderate measures. “Let the thing rest where it is,” said Dashwood: “it’s a joke, and there’s an end of it; but if you take it in earnest, you know the story might not tell so well, even if you told it, and there would never be an end of it.” All this, followed by a profusion of compliments, ratified a peace, which the moment he had made, he laughed at himself for having taken so much trouble to effect; whilst mademoiselle rested in the blessed persuasion that Dashwood was desperately in love with her; nay, so little knowledge had she of the human heart as to believe that the scene which had just passed was a proof of his passion.

“I wonder where’s Miladi Augusta? I thought she was wid me all this time,” said she.

“She’s coming; don’t you see her at the end of the grove with Mr. Mountague? We have walked fast,”

“Oh, she can’t never walk so fast as me; I tink I am as young as she is.”

Dashwood assented, at the same time pondering upon the consequences of the attachment which he saw rising in Mr. Mountague’s mind for Lady Augusta. If a man of sense were to gain an influence over her, Dashwood feared that all his hopes would be destroyed, and he resolved to use all his power over mademoiselle to prejudice her, and by her means to prejudice her pupil against this gentleman. Mademoiselle’s having begun by taking him for an apothicaire, was a circumstance much in favour of Dashwood’s views, because she felt herself pledged to justify, or at least to persist, in her opinion, that he did not look like un homme comme il faut.