rs.--What signifies a
specious outside, if within there's a narrow heart?--Such must be his,
to let a virtuous love sit imprisoned in secret corners, when it
delights to dwell in open day.

Perhaps, if he knew my intentions, all concealments would be thrown
aside, and he glory to declare what at present he meanly darkly
hints.--By my consent, you should never give your hand to one who can
hold the treasures of the mind in such low estimation.

When you mention'd your happy situation, the friendly treatment of Sir
James and Lady Powis, I was inclined to think for _many_ reasons, it
would be wrong to take you from them;--_now_ I am convinced, the pain
_that_ must occasion, or the danger in crossing the sea, is not to be
compared to what you might suffer in your _peace_ by remaining where you
are.--When people of Lord Darcey's rank weigh long a matter of this
nature, it is seldom the scale turns of the right side;--therefore, let
not _Hope_, my dear child, flatter you out of your affections.

Do not think you rest in security:--tender insinuations from a man such
as you describe Lord Darcey, may hurt your quiet.

I speak not from experience;--Nature, by cloathing me in her plainest
garb, has put all these hopes and fears far from me.

I have been ask'd, it is true, often, for my fortune;--at least, I look
upon asking for my heart to be the same thing.--Sure, I could never be
such a fool to part with the latter, when I well knew it was requested
only to be put in possession of the former!

_You_ think Jenkings suspects his son has a _too_ tender regard for
you;--_you_ think he is uneasy on that account.--Perhaps he is
uneasy;--but time will convince you his suspicions, his uneasiness,
proceed not from the _cause you imagine_.--He is a good man; you cannot
think too well of him.

I hope this letter will find you safe return'd to Hampshire. I am
preparing to leave the Spaw with all possible expedition: I should quit
it with reluctance, but for the prospect of visiting it again next
summer, with my dear Fanny.

At Montpelier the winter will slide on imperceptibly: many agreeable
families will there join us from the Spaw, whose good-humour and
chearful dispositions, together with plentiful draughts of the Pouhon
Spring, have almost made me forget the last ten years I have dragg'd, on
in painful sickness.

The family in which I have found most satisfaction, is Lord
Hampstead's:--every way calculated to make themselves