Chapter 29
“In short, Isabella, I offer you myself!”
“Heavens!” cried Isabella, “what do I hear? You, my lord?”
Castle of Otranto.
A novel is like a weatherglass,—where the man appears out at one time, the woman at another. Variable as the atmosphere, the changes of our story now re-present Lucy to the reader.
That charming young person—who, it may be remarked, is (her father excepted) the only unsophisticated a
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