pectation from me; Mr. Solmes's
riches (three times as rich he came out to be, as any body had thought
him); the settlements proposed; Mr. Lovelace's bad character; their
aversions to him; all in a very strong light; not in a stronger than
my mother had before placed them in. My mother, surely, could not have
given the particulars of what had passed between herself and me: if she
had, my aunt would not have repeated many of the same sentiments, as
you will find she did, that had been still more strongly urged, without
effect by her venerable sister.

She said it would break the heart of my father to have it imagined that
he had not a power over his own child; and that, as he thought, for
my own good: a child too, whom they had always doated upon!--Dearest,
dearest Miss, concluded she, clasping her fingers, with the most
condescending earnestness, let me beg of you, for my sake, for your own
sake, for a hundred sakes, to get over this averseness, to give up your
prejudices, and make every one happy and easy once more.--I would kneel
to you, my dearest Niece--nay, I will kneel to you--!

And down she dropt, and I with her, kneeling to her, and beseeching her
not to kneel; clasping my arms about her, and bathing her worthy bosom
with my tears.

O rise! rise! my beloved Aunt, said I: you cut me to the heart with this
condescending goodness.

Say then, my dearest Niece, say then, that you will oblige all your
friends!--If you love us, I beseech you do--

How can I perform what I can sooner choose to die than to perform--!

Say then, my dear, that you will consider of it. Say you will but
reason with yourself. Give us but hopes. Don't let me entreat, and thus
entreat, in vain--[for still she kneeled, and I by her].

What a hard case is mine!--Could I but doubt, I know I could
conquer.--That which is an inducement to my friends, is none at all to
me--How often, my dearest Aunt, must I repeat the same thing?--Let me
but be single--Cannot I live single? Let me be sent, as I have proposed,
to Scotland, to Florence, any where: let me be sent a slave to the
Indies, any where--any of these I will consent to. But I cannot, cannot
think of giving my vows to man I cannot endure!

Well then, rising, (Bella silently, with uplifted hands, reproaching my
supposed perverseness,) I see nothing can prevail with you to oblige us.

What can I do, my dearest Aunt Hervey? What can I do? Were I capable of
giving a hope I meant not to enl