The novels of Charles Brockden Brown, consisting of Wieland;or, The transformation. Arthur Mervyn; or, Memoirs of the year 1793. Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a sleep-walker. Jane Talbot. Ormond; or, The secret witness. Clara Howard; or, The enthusiasm of love. With a memoir of the author.

JANE TALBOT. 31
so plausible a scheme perverse and absurd; but, in this
instance, I am fully sensible that I have a right to do as
I please, and shall exert that right, whatever censure
I may incur."
" So, then, you are determined not to part with your
paltry legacy?"
"'I a~m determined not to part with it."
His eyes sparkled with rage, and, stamping on the
floor, he exclaimed, "Why, then, let me tell you, miss,
you are a damned idiot. I knew you were a fool, but could
not believe that your folly would ever carry you to these
lengths!"-Much more in this style did poor Frank utter
on this 6ccasion. I listened trembling, confounded,
vexed, and, as soon as I could recover presence of mind,
hastened out of his presence.
This dialogue occupied all my thoughts during that day
and the following. I was sitting, next evening, at twilight, pensively, in my own apartment, when, to my infinite
surprise, my brother was announced. At parting with him
the day before, he swore vehemently that he would never
see my face again if he could help it. I supposed this
resolution had given way to his anxiety to gain my concurrence with his schemes, and would fain have shunned
a second interview. This, however, was impossible. I
therefore composed my tremors as well as I was able, and
directed him to be admitted. The angry emotions of
yesterday had disappeared from his countenance, and he
addressed me with his customary carelessness. After a
few trifling preliminaries, he asked me if I had considered
the subject of our yesterday's conversation. I answered
that I had supposed that subject to have been dismissed
forever. It was not possible for time or argument to bring
us to the same way of thinking on it. I hoped, therefore,
that he would not compel me to discuss it a second
time.
Instead of flying into rage, as I expected, he fixed his
eyes thoughtfully on the floor, and, after a melancholy
pause, said,' I expected to find you invincible on that
head. To say truth, I came not to discuss that subject
with you anew. I came merely to ask a trifling favour."
Here he stopped. He was evidently at a loss how to