I think, that, with all his
preponderating faults, I like him better than I ever thought I should
like him; and, those faults considered, better perhaps than I ought to
like him. And I believe, it is possible for the persecution I labour
under to induce me to like him still more--especially while I can
recollect to his advantage our last interview, and as every day produces
stronger instances of tyranny, I will call it, on the other side.--In
a word, I will frankly own (since you cannot think any thing I say too
explicit) that were he now but a moral man, I would prefer him to all
the men I ever saw.

So that this is but conditional liking still, you'll say: nor, I hope,
is it more. I never was in love as it is called; and whether this be it,
or not, I must submit to you. But will venture to think it, if it be,
no such mighty monarch, no such unconquerable power, as I have heard
it represented; and it must have met with greater encouragement than
I think I have given it, to be absolutely unconquerable--since I am
persuaded, that I could yet, without a throb, most willingly give up the
one man to get rid of the other.

But now to be a little more serious with you: if, my dear, my
particularly-unhappy situation had driven (or led me, if you please)
into a liking of the man; and if that liking had, in your opinion,
inclined me to love him, should you, whose mind is susceptible of the
most friendly impressions, who have such high notions of the delicacy
which ought to be observed by our sex in these matters, and who actually
do enter so deeply into the distresses of one you love--should you
have pushed so far that unhappy friend on so very nice a
subject?--Especially, when I aimed not (as you could prove by fifty
instances, it seems) to guard against being found out. Had you rallied
me by word of mouth in the manner you do, it might have been more in
character; especially, if your friend's distresses had been surmounted,
and if she had affected prudish airs in revolving the subject: but to
sit down to write it, as methinks I see you, with a gladdened eye, and
with all the archness of exultation--indeed, my dear, (and I take notice
of it, rather for the sake of your own generosity, than for my sake,
for, as I have said, I love your raillery,) it is not so very pretty;
the delicacy of the subject, and the delicacy of your own mind,
considered.

I lay down my pen here, that you may consider of it a little, if you
please.