For the first time in his life, Henry Beverley found reflection painful to him, because it was the first time that his duty and inclination were at variance. He felt in a moment the impropriety of his engaging the affections of Miss Eaglefield, with whom he had no prospect of being ever united. He knew the virtues of his friend, added to, instead of receiving lustre from, his dignified situation: he knew him deserving of the choicest blessings in the nuptial state, and perfectly as worthy of the hand of Emilia as she was of his. /