with my
father yesterday on purpose that he might talk with me on my expected
obedience; but that he owned he was put beside his purpose by reflecting
on something my brother had told him in my disfavour, and by his
impatience but to suppose, that such a gentle spirit as mine had
hitherto seemed to be, should presume to dispute his will in a point
where the advantage of the whole family was to be so greatly promoted by
my compliance.

I find, by a few words which dropt unawares from my aunt, that they have
all an absolute dependence upon what they suppose to be meekness in my
temper. But in this they may be mistaken; for I verily think, upon a
strict examination of myself, that I have almost as much in me of my
father's as of my mother's family.

My uncle Harlowe it seems is against driving me upon extremities: But
my brother has engaged, that the regard I have for my reputation, and
my principles, will bring me round to my duty; that's the expression.
Perhaps I shall have reason to wish I had not known this.

My aunt advises me to submit for the present to the interdicts they
have laid me under; and indeed to encourage Mr. Solmes's address. I have
absolutely refused the latter, let what will (as I have told her) be the
consequence. The visiting prohibition I will conform to. But as to that
of not corresponding with you, nothing but the menace that our letters
shall be intercepted, can engage my observation of it.

She believes that this order is from my father, and that my mother
has not been consulted upon it. She says, that it is given, as she has
reason think, purely in consideration to me, lest I should mortally
offend him; and this from the incitements of other people (meaning you
and Miss Lloyd, I make no doubt) rather than by my own will. For still,
as she tells me, he speaks kind and praiseful things of me.

Here is clemency! Here is indulgence!--And so it is, to prevent a
headstrong child, as a good prince would wish to deter disaffected
subjects, from running into rebellion, and so forfeiting every thing!
But this is allowing to the young-man's wisdom of my brother; a plotter
without a head, and a brother without a heart!

How happy might I have been with any other brother in the world but
James Harlowe; and with any other sister but his sister! Wonder not, my
dear, that I, who used to chide you for these sort of liberties with my
relations, now am more undutiful than you ever was unkind. I cannot bear