up with such perfect composure, though I am
convinced he will not be sorry upon the whole to be given up; he has,
from the first receipt of the letter, plainly wished her to resign
him, but hoped for a few faintings and tears, as a sacrifice to his
vanity on the occasion.

My father is setting every engine at work to make things up again,
supposing Emily to have determined from pique, not from the real
feelings of her heart: he is frighted to death lest I should
counterwork him, and so jealous of my advising her to continue a
conduct he so much disapproves, that he won't leave us a moment
together; he even observes carefully that each goes into her
respective apartment when we retire to bed.

This jealousy has started an idea which I think will amuse us, and
which I shall take the first opportunity of communicating to Emily;
'tis to write each other at night our sentiments on whatever passes in
the day; if she approves the plan, I will send you the letters, which
will save me a great deal of trouble in telling you all our _petites
histoires_.

This scheme will have another advantage; we shall be a thousand
times more sincere and open to each other by letter than face to face;
I have long seen by her eyes that the little fool has twenty things to
say to me, but has not courage; now letters you know, my dear,

"Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart."

Besides, it will be so romantic and pretty, almost as agreable as a
love affair: I long to begin the correspondence.

Adieu!
Yours,
A. Fermor.

LETTER 64.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, Feb. 5.

I have but a moment, my Lucy, to tell you, my divine Emily has broke
with her lover, who this morning took an eternal leave of her, and set
out for Montreal in his way to New York, whence he proposes to embark
for England.

My sensations on this occasion are not to be described: I admire
that amiable delicacy which has influenced her to give up every
advantage of rank and fortune which could tempt the heart of woman,
rather than unite herself to a man for whom she felt the least degree
of indifference; and this, without regarding the censures of her
family, or of the world, by whom, what they will call her imprudence,
will never be forgiven: a woman who is capable of acting so nobly, is
worthy of being beloved, of being adored, by every man who has a soul
to distinguish her perfections.

If I was a vain man, I might per