gar error, termed love.

Agnes was formed by the rarest structure of the human frame, and destined
by the tenderest thrillings of the human soul, to inspire and to
experience real love: but her nice taste, her delicate thoughts, were so
refined beyond the sphere of her own station in society, that nature
would have produced this prodigy of attraction in vain, had not one of
superior education and manners assailed her affections; and had she been
accustomed to the conversation of men in William's rank of life, she had,
perhaps, treated William's addresses with indifference; but, in comparing
him with her familiar acquaintance, he was a miracle! His unremitting
attention seemed the condescension of an elevated being, to whom she
looked up with reverence, with admiration, with awe, with pride, with
sense of obligation--and all those various passions which constitute
true, and never-to-be-eradicated, love.

But in vain she felt and even avowed with her lips what every look, every
gesture, had long denoted; William, with discontent, sometimes with
anger, upbraided her for her false professions, and vowed, "that while
one tender proof, which he fervently besought, was wanting, she did but
aggravate his misery by less endearments."

Agnes had been taught the full estimation of female virtue; and if her
nature could have detested any one creature in a state of wretchedness,
it would have been the woman who had lost her honour; yet, for William,
what would not Agnes forfeit? The dignity, the peace, the serenity, the
innocence of her own mind, love soon encouraged her to fancy she could
easily forego; and this same overpowering influence at times so forcibly
possessed her, that she even felt a momentary transport in the
contemplation "of so precious a sacrifice to him." But then she loved
her parents, and their happiness she could not prevail with herself to
barter even for _his_. She wished he would demand some other pledge of
her attachment to him; for there was none but this, her ruin in no other
shape, that she would deny at his request. While thus she deliberated,
she prepared for her fall.

Bred up with strict observance both of his moral and religious character,
William did not dare to tell an unequivocal lie even to his inferiors; he
never promised Agnes he would marry her; nay, even he paid so much
respect to the forms of truth, that no sooner was it evident that he had
obtained her heart, her whole soul entire--