Let me, if your heart be really free, let me see what it will induce you to do to oblige me: and so as you permit your usual discretion to govern you, I will hear all you have to say; but with this intimation, that say what you will, it will be of no avail elsewhere.

What a dreadful saying is that! but could I engage your pity, madam, it would be somewhat.

You have as much of my pity, as of my love. But what is person, Clary, with one of your prudence, and your heart disengaged?

Should the eye be disgusted, when the heart is to be engaged?-O madam, who can think of marrying when the heart is shocked at the first appearance, and where the disgust must be confirmed by every conversation afterwards?

This, Clary, is owing to your prepossession. Have you not made objections to several—

That was to their minds, to their principles, madambut this man—

Is an honest man, Clary Harlowe. He has a good mind. He is a virtuous man.

He an honest man! His a good mind, madam! He a virtuous man !—

Nobody denies him these qualities.

Can he be an honest man who offers terms that will rob all his own relations of their just expectations?-Can his mind be good

You, Clary Harlowe, for whose sake he offers so much, are the last person that should make this observation.

Give me leave to say, madam, that a person preferring happiness to fortune, as I do; that want not even what I have, and can give up the use of that, as an instance of duty

No more, no more of your merits!—You know you will be a gainer by that cheerful instance of your duty; not a loser.

VOL. I.

F

Just then, up came my father, with a sternness in his looks that made me tremble.-He took two or three turns about my chamber, though pained by his gout.-And then said to my mother, who was silent as soon as she saw him.

My dear, you are long absent.-Dinner is near ready.. What you had to say, lay in a very little compass. Surely, you have nothing to do but to declare your will, and my will-but perhaps you may be talking of the preparations-let us have you soon down-your daughter in your hand, if worthy of the name.

And down he went, casting his eye upon me with a look so stern, that I was unable to say one word to him, or even for a few minutes to my mother.

Was not this very intimidating, my dear?

My mother, seeing my concern, seemed to pity me. She called me her good child, and kissed me; and told me that my father should not know I had made such opposition. He has kindly furnished us with an excuse for being so long together, said she.-Come, my dear—dinner will be upon table presently-Shall we go down?—And. took my hand.

This made me start: What, madam, go down to let it be supposed we were talking of preparations -O my beloved mamma, command me not down upon such a supposition.

You see, child, that to stay longer together, will be owning that you are debating about an absolute duty: and that will not be borne. Did not your father himself some days ago tell you, he would be obeyed? I will a third time leave you. I must say something by way of excuse for you: and that you desire not to go down to dinner that your modesty on the occasion

O madam! say not my modesty on such an occasion :: for that will be to give hope

And design you not to give hope ?-Perverse girl!rising, and flinging from me; take more time for consideration since it is necessary, take more time-and when

I see you next, let me know what blame I have to cast upon myself, or to bear from your father, for my indulgence to you.

She made, however, a little stop at the chamber-door; and seemed to expect that I would have besought her to make the gentlest construction for me; for, hesitating, she was pleased to say, I suppose you would not have me make a report

O madam, interrupted I, whose favour can I hope for, if I lose my mamma's?

And so my mother went down stairs.

My mother, on her return, which was as soon as she had dined, was pleased to inform me, that she told my father that she was willing, on so material a point, to give a child whom she had so much reason to love (as she condescended to acknowledge were her words) liberty to say all that was in her heart to say, that her compliance might be the freer: letting him know, that when he came up, she was attending to my pleas; for that she found I had rather not marry at all.

She told me, that to this my father angrily said, Let her take care―let her take care-that she give me not ground to suspect her of a preference somewhere else. But, if it be to ease her heart, and not to dispute my will, you may hear her out.

So, Clary, said my mother, I am returned in a temper accordingly and I hope you will not again, by your peremptoriness, show me, how I ought to treat you.

Indeed, madam, you did me justice, to say, I have no inclination to marry at all. I have not, I hope, made myself so very unuseful in my papa's family, as—

No more of your merits, Clary! you have been a good child. You have eased me of all the family-cares: but do not now give more than ever you relieved me from. You have been amply repaid in the reputation your skill and management have given you: but now there is soon to be

a period to all those assistances from you. If you marry, there will be a natural period; if you do not, there will be a period likewise, but not a natural one-you understand me, child.

I wept.

I have made inquiry already after a housekeeper. I would have had your good Norton; but I suppose you will yourself wish to have the worthy woman with you. If you desire it, that shall be agreed upon for you.

But, why, dearest madam, why am I, the youngest, to be precipitated into a state, that I am very far from wishing to enter into with anybody?

You are going to question me, I suppose, why your sister is not thought of for Mr. Solmes ?

I hope, madam, it will not displease you, if I were ?

I might refer you for an answer to your father.-Mr. Solmes has reasons for preferring you

And I have reasons, madam, for disliking him. And why am I

This quickness upon me, interrupted my mother, is not to be borne! I am gone, and your father comes, if I can do no good with you.

O madam, I would rather die, than—

She put her hand to my mouth.-No peremptoriness, Clary Harlowe once you declare yourself inflexible, I have done.

I wept for vexation. This is all, all, my brother's doings-his grasping views—

No reflections upon your brother: he has entirely the honour of the family at heart.

I would no more dishonour my family, madam, than my brother would.

I believe it but I hope you will allow your father, and me, and your uncles, to judge what will do it honour, what dishonour.

I then offered to live single; never to marry at all; or never but with their full approbation.

If you mean to show your duty, and your obedience, Clary, you must show it in our way, not in your own.

I hope, madam, that I have not so behaved hitherto, as to render such a trial of my obedience necessary.

Yes, Clary, I cannot but say that you have hitherto behaved extremely well: but you have had no trials till now: we have hitherto rather complied with you, than you with us. Now that you are grown up to marriageable years, is the test; especially as your grandfather has made you independent, in preference to those who had prior expectations upon that estate.

Madam, my grandfather knew, and expressly mentions. in his will his desire, that my father will more than make it up to my sister.

I am loth to interrupt you, Clary; though you could more than once break in upon me.

I beg your pardon, dear madam, and your patience with me on such an occasion as this. If I did not speak with earnestness upon it, I should be supposed to have only maidenly objections against a man I never can endure. How now, Clary !-O girl!

Your patience, my dearest mamma :-you were pleased to say, you would hear me with patience.-Person in a man is nothing, because I am supposed to be prudent: so my eye is to be disgusted, and my reason not convincedGirl, girl!

Thus are my imputed good qualities to be made my punishment; I am to be wedded to a monster. And that I may be induced to bear this treatment, I am to be complimented with being indifferent to all men: yet, at other times, and to serve other purposes, be thought prepossessed in favour of a man against whose moral character lie just objections.-Confined, as if, like the giddiest of creatures, I would run away with this man,