reen to be put as close to the window as possible, that he
might not see what was behind it; while he, having heard what she had
said about it, was determined to take no notice of it.

He folded the angel in his arms as she sat, dropping down on one knee;
for, supporting herself upon the two elbows of the chair, she attempted
to rise, but could not. Excuse, my dear Cousin, said she, excuse me,
that I cannot stand up--I did not expect this favour now. But I am glad
of this opportunity to thank you for all your generous goodness to me.

I never, my best-beloved and dearest Cousin, said he, (with eyes running
over,) shall forgive myself, that I did not attend you sooner. Little
did I think you were so ill; nor do any of your friends believe it. If
they did--

If they did, repeated she, interrupting him, I should have had more
compassion from them. I am sure I should--But pray, Sir, how did you
leave them? Are you reconciled to them? If you are not, I beg, if you
love your poor Clarissa, that you will; for every widened difference
augments but my fault; since that is the foundation of all.

I had been expecting to hear from them in your favour, my dear Cousin,
said he, for some hours, when this gentleman's letter arrived, which
hastened me up; but I have the account of your grandfather's estate to
make up with you, and have bills and drafts upon their banker for the
sums due to you; which they desire you may receive, lest you should have
occasion for money. And this is such an earnest of an approaching
reconciliation, that I dare to answer for all the rest being according to
your wishes, if----

Ah! Sir, interrupted she, with frequent breaks and pauses--I wish--I wish
this does not rather show that, were I to live, they would have nothing
more to say to me. I never had any pride in being independent of them;
all my actions, when I might have made myself more independent, show this
--But what avail these reflections now?--I only beg, Sir, that you, and
this gentleman--to whom I am exceedingly obliged--will adjust those
matters--according to the will I have written. Mr. Belford will excuse
me; but it was in truth more necessity than choice that made me think of
giving him the trouble he so kindly accepts. Had I the happiness to see
you, my Cousin, sooner--or to know that you still honoured me with your
regard--I should not have had the assurance to ask this favour of him.--
But, though the friend of Mr. Lovelac