, to whose family he had
obligations; that, his affairs having suffered such a happy
revolution, he had it in his power, and, therefore, thought it his
duty, to pay this debt of gratitude; and, at the same time, hoping to
make me happy by connecting me with an amiable family, allied to him by
blood and friendship; and uniting me to a man whom report spoke worthy
of all my tenderness.

You may remember, my dearest Bell, how strongly I was affected on
reading those letters: I wrote to Rivers, to beg him to defer our
marriage; but the manner in which he took that request, and the fear of
appearing indifferent to him, conquered all sense of what I owed to my
father, and I married him; making it, however, a condition that he
should ask no explanation of my conduct till I chose to give it.

I knew not the character of my father; he might be a tyrant, and
divide us from each other: Rivers doubted my tenderness; would not my
waiting, if my father had afterwards refused his consent to our union,
have added to those cruel suspicions? might he not have supposed I had
ceased to love him, and waited for the excuse of paternal authority to
justify a change of sentiment?

In short, love bore down every other consideration; if I persisted
in this delay, I might hazard losing all my soul held dear, the only
object for which life was worth my care.

I determined, if I married, to give up all claim to my father's
fortune, which I should justly forfeit by my disobedience to his
commands: I hoped, however, Rivers's merit, and my father's paternal
affection, when he knew us both, would influence him to make some
provision for me as his daughter.

Half his fortune was all I ever hoped for, or even would have chose
to accept: the rest I determined to give up to the man whom I refused
to marry.

I gave my hand to Rivers, and was happy; yet the idea of my
father's return, and the consciousness of having disobeyed him, cast
sometimes a damp on my felicity, and threw a gloom over my soul, which
all my endeavors could scarce hide from Rivers, though his delicacy
prevented his asking the cause.

I now know, what was then a secret to me, that my father had offered
his daughter to Rivers, with a fortune which could, however, have been
no temptation to a mind like his, had he not been attached to me: he
declined the offer, and, lest I should hear of it, and, from a romantic
disinterestedness, want him to accept it, pressed our marriage with
m