ought it would be very strange, as I mentioned in one of my former,*
if I, who had so steadily held out against characters so venerable,
against authorities so sacred, as I may say, when I thought them
unreasonably exerted, should not find myself more equal to such a trial
as this; especially as I had so much reason to be displeased with him
for not having taken away my letter.

On what a point of time may one's worldly happiness depend! Had I but
two hours more to consider of the matter, and to attend to and improve
upon these new lights, as I may call them--but even then, perhaps, I
might have given him a meeting.--Fool that I was! what had I to do to
give him hope that I would personally acquaint him with the reason for
my change of mind, if I did change it?

O my dear! an obliging temper is a very dangerous temper!--By
endeavouring to gratify others, it is evermore disobliging itself!

When the bell rang to call the servants to dinner, Betty came to me
and asked, if I had any commands before she went to hers; repeating
her hint, that she should be employed; adding, that she believed it was
expected that I should not come up till she came down, or till I saw my
aunt or Miss Hervey.

I asked her some questions about the cascade, which had been out of
order, and lately mended; and expressed a curiosity to see how it
played, in order to induce her [how cunning to cheat myself, as it
proved!] to go thither, if she found me not where she left me; it being
a part of the garden most distant from the ivy summer-house.

She could hardly have got into the house when I heard the first
signal--O how my heart fluttered!--but no time was to be lost. I
stept to the garden-door; and seeing a clear coast, unbolted the
already-unlocked door--and there was he, all impatience, waiting for me.

A panic next to fainting seized me when I saw him. My heart seemed
convulsed; and I trembled so, that I should hardly have kept my feet,
had he not supported me.

Fear nothing, dearest creature, said he--let us hasten away--the chariot
is at hand--and, by this sweet condescension, you have obliged me beyond
expression or return.

Recovering my spirits a little, as he kept drawing me after him, O Mr.
Lovelace, said I, I cannot go with you--indeed I cannot--I wrote you
word so--let go my hand, and you shall see my letter. It is lain there
from yesterday morning, till within this half-hour. I bid you watch to
the last for a letter from me, l