the neighbourhood; and as
the natural openness both of her disposition and mine inclined us to
converse with much freedom, I one day took the liberty to tell her how
much Mr Alworth was in love with her. She had not the least suspicion of
it, the entire affection which had always subsisted between them she
imagined sufficient to lead me into that error but told me the thing was
impossible; and to prove it, related all the circumstances of their
intended union. Appearances were too strong to suffer me to be persuaded
that I was mistaken; I acknowledged that what she urged seemed to
contradict my opinion, but that it was no proof; for the perverseness of
human nature was such that it did not appear to me at all improbable
that the easiness of obtaining her, when they had both been, as it were,
bred up with that view, might be the sole occasion of his indifference;
and the impossibility of ever possessing her now would only serve to
inflame his passion.
Harriot accused me of representing human nature more perverse and absurd
than it really was, and continued firm in the persuasion of my being
mistaken. Whatever glaring signs of Mr Alworth's love appeared, she set
them all down to the account of friendship; till at length his mind was
so torn with grief and despair that no longer able to conceal the cause
of his greatest sufferings he begged her to teach him how to conquer a
passion which, while it existed, must make him wretched; and with the
greatest confusion told her how unaccountably unfortunate he was, both
in not loving, and in loving, each equally out of season. Almost
distracted with the distressful state of his mind, he was in the utmost
horror lest this declaration should offend her; and throwing himself at
her feet with a countenance and manner which shewed him almost frantic
with despair, terrified her so much that she did not feel half the shock
this declaration would have given her had it been made with more
calmness.
She strove to silence him; she endeavoured to raise him from her feet,
but to no purpose; she could not abate the agonies of his mind, without
assuring him she forgave him. Her spirits were in extreme agitation till
she saw him a little composed, for she feared his senses were affected;
but when her alarm began to abate, the effect of her terrors and her
grief appeared in a flood of tears; Mr Alworth found them infectious,
and she was obliged to dry them up in order to comfort him. When he g
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