mit me to hope you are not offended by my application to Sir
James?--May I hope for your--

Friendship, my Lord (reply'd she, interrupting him); you may command my
friendship.

_Friendship!_ (retorted he) Miss Powis, starting up:--is that _all I_ am
to expect?--Can I accept your _friendship?_--No, Madam, the man who
would have died for you aspires to more than _friendship_;--he aspires
to your _love_.

I am no stranger, my Lord, return'd she, to the honour you intend me;--I
am no stranger to _your_ worth;--but I have scruples;--scruples that
seem to me insurmountable.

I never saw him so affected.

For heaven's sake, Madam, he answer'd, don't drive me to despair:--tear
not open the wound which the hand of Mercy has just clos'd:--my
shatter'd frame will not bear another rub from fortune.--_What
scruples?_--Tell me, Miss Powis, I conjure you.

You have none, my dear child, said Mrs. Powis. You have none, Fanny,
said Mr. Powis, but what his Lordship can remove.

Indeed, Sir!--indeed, Madam! replied she, I meant not to give Lord
Darcey pain.--Then turning to him in a tender, soothing accent,--Your
peace, my Lord, has never been lightly regarded by me.--Here he
brighten'd up,--and said, taking her hand, You know not, Miss Powis,
from the first moment I saw you, how ardent,--how steady has been my
love.

Why _then_ my Lord, resum'd she--_why_ endeavour to gain my affections,
yet hide your preference for me from the _world_;--even from
_myself?_--Think of the _day_ Lord Allen dined at the Abbey;--think what
pass'd in a walk preceding _that_ you set out for town:--on both
these,--on many others, how mysterious your conduct?--If you thought me
worthy your regard, my Lord, why _such_ mysteries?

For God's sake, my dear,--dear Miss Powis, said Darcey, suffer me to
vindicate myself.--Pardon me, my Lord (continued the angel that
harangued him) hear me patiently another moment, and I will listen to
your vindication.

She went on.

From whence can I suppose, my Lord, your embarrassments proceeded, if
not from _some_ entanglement grown irksome?--No; before I can promise
_myself_ happiness, I must be first satisfied I do not borrow that
_happiness_ from _another_.

_Another_, Madam! repeated he, throwing himself at her feet:--May all my
brighter prospects fly me;--may my youth be blighted by the loss of
reason if I have ever lov'd _another!_

She was affected with the solemnity of his air: one pearly drop stray'd
down