irst see the issue of one application? And
yet I cannot make this, till I am settled somewhere, and at a distance
from him.

Mrs. Sorlings shewed me a letter this morning, which she had received
from her sister Greme last night; in which Mrs. Greme (hoping I would
forgive her forward zeal if her sister thinks fit to shew her letter to
me) 'wishes (and that for all the noble family's sake, and she hopes she
may say for my own) that I will be pleased to yield to make his honour,
as she calls him, happy.' She grounds her officiousness, as she calls
it, upon what he was so condescending [her word also] to say to her
yesterday, in his way to Windsor, on her presuming to ask, if she might
soon give him joy? 'That no man ever loved a woman as he loves me: that
no woman ever so well deserved to be beloved: that he loves me with such
a purity as he had never believed himself capable of, or that a mortal
creature could have inspired him with; looking upon me as all soul; as
an angel sent down to save his;' and a great deal more of this sort:
'but that he apprehends my consent to make him happy is at a greater
distance than he wishes; and complained of too severe restrictions I
had laid upon him before I honoured him with my confidence: which
restrictions must be as sacred to him, as if they were parts of the
marriage contract,' &c.

What, my dear, shall I say to this? How shall I take it? Mrs. Greme is
a good woman. Mrs. Sorlings is a good woman. And this letter agrees with
the conversation between Mr. Lovelace and me, which I thought, and
still think, so agreeable.* Yet what means the man by foregoing the
opportunities he has had to declare himself?--What mean his complaints
of my restrictions to Mrs. Greme? He is not a bashful man.--But you say,
I inspire people with an awe of me.--An awe, my dear!--As how?

* This letter Mrs. Greme (with no bad design on her part) was put upon
writing by Mr. Lovelace himself, as will be seen in Letter XXXV.

I am quite petulant, fretful, and peevish, with myself, at times, to
find that I am bound to see the workings of the subtle, or this giddy
spirit, which shall I call it?

How am I punished, as I frequently think, for my vanity, in hoping to
be an example to young persons of my sex! Let me be but a warning, and I
will now be contented. For, be my destiny what it may, I shall never
be able to hold up my head again among my best friends and worthiest
companions.

It is one of