were in your duty, (and you told me it was free, you know,) I shall
then, as I said, give you the most tender proofs how much I am

Your truly affectionate Mother.

***

Think for me, my dearest friend, how I must be affected by this letter;
the contents of it is so surprisingly terrifying, yet so sweetly
urged!--O why, cried I to myself, am I obliged to undergo this
severe conflict between a command that I cannot obey, and language so
condescendingly moving!--Could I have been sure of being struck dead
at the alter before the ceremony had given the man I hate a title to my
vows, I think I could have submitted to having been led to it. But to
think of living with and living for a man one abhors, what a sad thing
is that!

And then, how could the glare of habit and ornament be supposed any
inducement to one, who has always held, that the principal view of a
good wife in the adorning of her person, ought to be, to preserve the
affection of her husband, and to do credit to his choice; and that she
should be even fearful of attracting the eyes of others?--In this view,
must not the very richness of the patterns add to my disgusts?--Great
encouragement, indeed, to think of adorning one's self to be the wife of
Mr. Solmes!

Upon the whole, it was not possible for me to go down upon the
prescribed condition. Do you think it was?--And to write, if my letter
would have been read, what could I write that would be admitted, and
after what I had written and said to so little effect?

I walked backward and forward. I threw down with disdain the patterns.
Now to my closet retired I; then quitting it, threw myself upon the
settee; then upon this chair, then upon that; then into one window, then
into another--I knew not what to do!--And while I was in this suspense,
having again taken up the letter to re-peruse it, Betty came in,
reminding me, by order, that my papa and mamma waited for me in my
father's study.

Tell my mamma, said I, that I beg the favour of seeing her here for one
moment, or to permit me to attend her any where by herself.

I listened at the stairs-head--You see, my dear, how it is, cried
my father, very angrily: all your condescension (as your indulgence
heretofore) is thrown away. You blame your son's violence, as you call
it [I had some pleasure in hearing this]; but nothing else will do with
her. You shall not see her alone. Is my presence an exception to the
bold creature?

Tell her, said my moth