icions, and trying what that would
do--But if--but if--Pray, my dear, indulge me a little--you yourself
think it was necessary to apologize to me for that change of style to
them--and till you will speak out like a friend to her unquestionable
friend, I must tease you a little--let it run therefore; for it will
run--

If, then, there be not a reason for this change of style, which you have
not thought fit to give me, be so good as to watch, as I once before
advised you, how the cause for it will come on--Why should it be
permitted to steal upon you, and you know nothing of the matter?

When we get a great cold, we are apt to puzzle ourselves to find out
when it began, or how we got it; and when that is accounted for, down
we sit contented, and let it have its course; or, if it be very
troublesome, take a sweat, or use other means to get rid of it. So
my dear, before the malady you wot of, yet wot not of, grows so
importunate, as that you must be obliged to sweat it out, let me advise
you to mind how it comes on. For I am persuaded, as surely as that I am
now writing to you, that the indiscreet violence of your friends on the
one hand, and the insinuating address of Lovelace on the other, (if the
man be not a greater fool than any body thinks him,) will effectually
bring it to this, and do all his work for him.

But let it--if it must be Lovelace or Solmes, the choice cannot admit of
debate. Yet if all be true that is reported, I should prefer almost any
of your other lovers to either; unworthy as they also are. But who can
be worthy of a Clarissa?

I wish you are not indeed angry with me for harping so much on one
string. I must own, that I should think myself inexcusable so to do,
(the rather, as I am bold enough imagine it a point out of all doubt
from fifty places in your letters, were I to labour the proof,) if you
would ingenuously own--

Own what? you'll say. Why, my Anna Howe, I hope you don't think that I
am already in love--!

No, to be sure! How can your Anna Howe have such a thought?--What then
shall we call it? You might have helped me to a phrase--A conditional
kind of liking!--that's it.--O my friend! did I not know how much you
despise prudery; and that you are too young, and too lovely, to be a
prude--

But, avoiding such hard names, let me tell you one thing, my dear (which
nevertheless I have told you before); and that is this: that I shall
think I have reason to be highly displeased with you,