One day, that Matilda entered Lady Torrendale's sitting-room, rather unexpectedly, she found her engaged in conversation with Lord Strathallan; in which the Countess seemed to be remonstrating on some subject that deeply interested her, and his Lordship with equal eagerness attempting to justify himself. ‘I hope I have given proofs of the sincerity – the warmth with which I –’ He stopped, without concluding the sentence, as Matilda appeared. Both paused, and then attempted to turn the conversation, with the / air of persons who had been interrupted in discussing a subject of importance.

Lady Torrendale, who was the first to recover herself, begged she would stay. ‘We have been talking of something not very material,’ said she. ‘This gentleman, though he will soon perceive the reasonableness of what I say, is troubled with an unfortunate delicacy which makes him unwilling even to oblige, lest the favour he confers might lessen the disinterestedness of the attachment he inspires. No one can be more jealous of the nature of that attachment. It must be unmixed with interest's more base alloy. But consolez vous, my dear exceptious knight; the advice I give you is as much for your advantage as mine.’

Lord Strathallan, who did not seem to like raillery on that head, soon took an opportunity of leaving the room; while the lively Countess carelessly repeated

‘That still the grateful youth might own I loved him for himself alone.’

I have been giving my opinion to Strathallan upon a subject,' she said, ‘that is at present a matter of some consequence to us all.’ Then drawing her chair closer to Matilda's, and taking her hand in all the friendly confidence of a tête-à-tête, she continued – 'Though there are not above eight or ten years between us, yet even this slight difference gives something more of authority to that I can suggest, at the same time that we are sufficiently near in age to prevent a little friendly counsel and interference on my part from appearing to have the harshness of a parental command.