th favorable eyes upon
Carwin. Hence arose disquietudes, which he struggled in vain to conceal.
He loved me, but was hopeless that his love would be compensated. Is it
not time, said I, to rectify this error? But by what means is this to be
effected? It can only be done by a change of deportment in me; but how
must I demean myself for this purpose?

I must not speak. Neither eyes, nor lips, must impart the information.
He must not be assured that my heart is his, previous to the tender of
his own; but he must be convinced that it has not been given to another;
he must be supplied with space whereon to build a doubt as to the true
state of my affections; he must be prompted to avow himself. The line
of delicate propriety; how hard it is, not to fall short, and not to
overleap it!

This afternoon we shall meet at the temple. We shall not separate till
late. It will be his province to accompany me home. The airy expanse is
without a speck. This breeze is usually stedfast, and its promise of
a bland and cloudless evening, may be trusted. The moon will rise at
eleven, and at that hour, we shall wind along this bank. Possibly that
hour may decide my fate. If suitable encouragement be given, Pleyel will
reveal his soul to me; and I, ere I reach this threshold, will be made
the happiest of beings. And is this good to be mine? Add wings to thy
speed, sweet evening; and thou, moon, I charge thee, shroud thy beams at
the moment when my Pleyel whispers love. I would not for the world, that
the burning blushes, and the mounting raptures of that moment, should be
visible.

But what encouragement is wanting? I must be regardful of insurmountable
limits. Yet when minds are imbued with a genuine sympathy, are not words
and looks superfluous? Are not motion and touch sufficient to impart
feelings such as mine? Has he not eyed me at moments, when the pressure
of his hand has thrown me into tumults, and was it possible that he
mistook the impetuosities of love, for the eloquence of indignation?

But the hastening evening will decide. Would it were come! And yet I
shudder at its near approach. An interview that must thus terminate, is
surely to be wished for by me; and yet it is not without its terrors.
Would to heaven it were come and gone!

I feel no reluctance, my friends to be thus explicit. Time was, when
these emotions would be hidden with immeasurable solicitude, from every
human eye. Alas! these airy and fleeting impulses of sh