t the shocking conduct of her step-mother, terrified with
her threats, and sensible there was no villainy she was not capable of
perpetrating rather than give up a point she was thus determined to
carry, she was incapable of forming any resolution. She ran to her
friend, to seek from her that advice and consolation which her own
distracted thoughts could not afford her.

Miss Mancel was so struck with the terror and amazement which was still
impressed on Miss Melvyn's countenance, that she had not for some time
courage to ask the cause. Trembling with fears of she knew not what,
she embraced her distressed friend with an air of such tender, though
silent sympathy, as softened the horror of Miss Melvyn's mind, and
brought a shower of tears to her relief, which at length enabled her to
relate all that had passed between her and her parents. Louisa found it
much easier to join in her friend's grief than to administer
consolation. She knew not what to advise; two artless, virtuous young
women were ill qualified to contend with Lady Melvyn, especially in an
affair which could not be rendered public without hazarding Miss
Melvyn's character; for reputation is so delicate a thing that the least
surmise casts a blemish on it; the woman who is suspected is disgraced;
and though Lady Melvyn did not stand high in the public opinion, yet it
was scarcely possible for any one to believe she could be guilty of such
flagrant wickedness.

Miss Melvyn had a very strong dislike to Mr Morgan, whose disposition
appeared as ill suited to hers as his age; to enter into wedlock without
any prospect of social happiness seemed to her one of the greatest
misfortunes in life; but what was still of more weight in her
estimation, she thought it the highest injustice to marry a man whom she
could not love, as well as a very criminal mockery of the most solemn
vows. On the other side she considered that to preserve her reputation
was not only necessary to her own happiness, but a duty to society. 'It
is true,' said she, 'I am not placed in a very conspicuous sphere of
life, but I am far from being of a rank so obscure that my actions will
affect no one but myself; nor indeed do I know any so low, but they have
their equals who may copy after them, if they have no inferiors. The
care of our virtue we owe to ourselves, the preservation of our
characters is due to the world, and both are required by him who
commands us to preserve ourself pure and unpol