earest love, uncover your face. You shall not look upon
me, since I am so odious to you. But this is a violence I never thought
you capable of.

And I would have pressed her hand, as I held it, with my lips; but she
drew it from me with indignation.

Unhand me, Sir, said she. I will not be touched by you. Leave me to my
fate. What right, what title, have you to persecute me thus?

What right, what title, my dear!--But this is not a time--I have a letter
from Captain Tomlinson--here it is--offering it to her--

I will receive nothing from your hands--tell me not of Captain
Tomlinson--tell me not of any body--you have no right to invade me thus--
once more leave me to my fate--have you not made me miserable enough?

I touched a delicate string, on purpose to set her in such a passion
before the women, as might confirm the intimation I had given of a
phrensical disorder.

What a turn is here!--Lately so happy--nothing wanting but a
reconciliation between you and your friends!--That reconciliation in such
a happy train--shall so slight, so accidental an occasion be suffered to
overturn all our happiness?

She started up with a trembling impatience, her apron falling from her
indignant face--now, said she, that thou darest to call the occasion
slight and accidental, and that I am happily out of thy vile hands, and
out of a house I have reason to believe as vile, traitor and wretch as
thou art, I will venture to cast an eye upon thee--and Oh! that it were
in my power, in mercy to my sex, to look thee first into shame and
remorse, and then into death!

This violent tragedy-speech, and the high manner in which she uttered it,
had its desired effect. I looked upon the women, and upon her by turns,
with a pitying eye; and they shook their wise heads, and besought me to
retire, and her to lie down to compose herself.

This hurricane, like other hurricanes, was presently allayed by a shower.
She threw herself once more into her armed chair, and begged pardon of
the women for her passionate excess; but not of me: yet I was in hopes,
that when compliments were stirring, I should have come in for a share.

Indeed, Ladies, said I, [with assurance enough, thou'lt say,] this
violence is not natural to my beloved's temper--misapprehension--

Misapprehension, wretch!--And want I excuses from thee!

Bu what a scorn was every lovely feature agitated!

Then turning her face from me, I have not patience, O thou guileful
be