lued him, he never would have had it in his power
to insult me; nor could I, if I had never regarded him, have taken to
heart as I do, the insult (execrable as it was) so undeservedly, so
ungratefully given--but let him retire--for a moment let him retire.

I was more than half afraid to trust the Captain by himself with her. He
gave me a sign that I might depend upon him. And then I took out of my
pocket his letter to me, and Lady Betty's and Miss Montague's, and Lord
M.'s letters (which last she had not then seen); and giving them to him,
procure for me, in the first place, Mr. Tomlinson, a re-perusal of these
three letters; and of this from Lord M. And I beseech you, my dearest
life, give them due consideration: and let me on my return find the happy
effects of that consideration.

I then withdrew; with slow feet, however, and a misgiving heart.

The Captain insisted upon this re-perusal previously to what she had to
say to him, as he tells me. She complied, but with some difficulty; as
if she were afraid of being softened in my favour.

She lamented her unhappy situation; destitute of friends, and not knowing
whither to go, or what to do. She asked questions, sifting-questions,
about her uncle, about her family, and after what he knew of Mr.
Hickman's fruitless application in her favour.

He was well prepared in this particular; for I had shown him the letters
and extracts of letter of Miss Howe, which I had so happily come at.*
Might she be assured, she asked him, that her brother, with Singleton and
Solmes, were actually in quest of her?

* Vol. IV. Letter XLIV.

He averred that they were.

She asked, if he thought I had hopes of prevailing on her to go back to
town?

He was sure I had not.

Was he really of opinion that Lady Betty would pay her a visit?

He had no doubt of it.

But, Sir; but, Captain Tomlinson--[impatiently turning from him, and
again to him] I know not what to do--but were I your daughter, Sir--were
you my own father--Alas! Sir, I have neither father nor mother!

He turned from her and wiped his eyes.

O Sir! you have humanity! [She wept too.] There are some men in the
world, thank Heaven, that can be moved. O Sir, I have met with hard-
hearted men--in my own family too--or I could not have been so unhappy
as I am--but I make every body unhappy!

His eyes no doubt ran over.--

Dearest Madam! Heavenly Lady!--Who can--who can--hesitated and blubbered
the dog, as he