used to love me--your Grandfather did not
do so much for you, as I will do for you.

Without suffering me to reply, he hurried away, as I thought, like one
who has been employed to act a part against his will, and was glad it
was over.

Don't you see, my dear Miss Howe, how they are all determined?--Have I
not reason to dread next Tuesday?

Up presently after came my sister:--to observe, I suppose, the way I was
in.

She found me in tears.

Have you not a Thomas a Kempis, Sister? with a stiff air.

I have, Madam.

Madam!--How long are we to be at this distance, Clary?

No longer, my dear Bella, if you allow me to call you sister. And I took
her hand.

No fawning neither, Girl!

I withdrew my hand as hastily, as you may believe I should have done,
had I, in feeling for one of your parcels under the wood, been bitten by
a viper.

I beg pardon, said I,--Too-too ready to make advances, I am always
subjecting myself to contempts.

People who know not how to keep a middle behaviour, said she, must ever
do so.

I will fetch you the Kempis, Sister. I did. Here it is. You will find
excellent things, Bella, in that little book.

I wish, retorted she, you had profited by them.

I wish you may, said I. Example from a sister older than one's self is a
fine thing.

Older! saucy little fool!--And away she flung.

What a captious old woman will my sister make, if she lives to be
one!--demanding the reverence, perhaps, yet not aiming at the merit; and
ashamed of the years that can only entitle her to the reverence.

It is plain, from what I have related, that they think they have got me
at some advantage by obtaining my consent to the interview: but if it
were not, Betty's impertinence just now would make it evident. She has
been complimenting me upon it; and upon the visit of my uncle Harlowe.
She says, the difficulty now is more than half over with me. She is
sure I would not see Mr. Solmes, but to have him. Now shall she be soon
better employed than of late she has been. All hands will be at work.
She loves dearly to have weddings go forward!--Who knows, whose turn
will be next?

I found in the afternoon a reply to my answer to Mr. Lovelace's letter.
It is full of promises, full of vows of gratitude, of eternal gratitude,
is his word, among others still more hyperbolic. Yet Mr. Lovelace, the
least of any man whose letters I have seen, runs into those elevated
absurdities. I should be apt to despise him