ught her to resign to Lady
Betty's mediation all our differences, if she would not forgive me before
she saw her.

She turned towards me--she was going to speak; but her heart was full,
and again she turned away her eyes,--And do you really and indeed expect
Lady Betty and Miss Montague?--And do you--Again she stopt.

I answered in a solemn manner.

She turned from me her whole face, and paused, and seemed to consider.
But, in a passionate accent, again turning towards me, [O how difficult,
Jack, for a Harlowe spirit to forgive!] Let her Ladyship come, if she
pleases, said she, I cannot, cannot, wish to see her; and if I did see
her, and she were to plead for you, I cannot wish to hear her! The more
I think, the less I can forgive an attempt, that I am convinced was
intended to destroy me. [A plaguy strong word for the occasion,
supposing she was right!] What has my conduct been, that an insult of
such a nature should be offered to me, and it would be a weakness in me
to forgive? I am sunk in my own eyes! And how can I receive a visit
that must depress me more?

The Captain urged her in my favour with greater earnestness than before.
We both even clamoured, as I may say, for mercy and forgiveness. [Didst
thou never hear the good folks talk of taking Heaven by storm?]--
Contrition repeatedly avowed; a total reformation promised; the happy
expedient again urged.

Cl. I have taken my measures. I have gone too far to recede, or to
wish to recede. My mind is prepared for adversity. That I have not
deserved the evils I have met with is my consolation; I have written to
Miss Howe what my intentions are. My heart is not with you--it is
against you, Mr. Lovelace. I had not written to you as I did in the
letter I left behind me, had I not resolved, whatever became of me, to
renounce you for ever.

I was full of hope now. Severe as her expressions were, I saw she was
afraid that I should think of what she had written. And, indeed, her
letter is violence itself.--Angry people, Jack, should never write while
their passion holds.

Lovel. The severity you have shown me, Madam, whether by pen or by
speech, shall never have place in my remembrance, but for your honor. In
the light you have taken things, all is deserved, and but the natural
result of virtuous resentment; and I adore you, even for the pangs you
have given me.

She was silent. She had employment enough with her handkerchief at her
eyes.

Lo