I can justify myself to myself. I again beg you to hire a coach to be at
the door early Monday morning, to carry us some part of our way,
wherever you resolve our journey shall be. If you determine to go to
that lady's house, you had better come with a coach and six at seven
o'clock tomorrow. She and I will be in the balcony that looks on the
road: you have nothing to do but to stop under it, and we will come down
to you. Do in this what you like best. After all, think very seriously.
Your letter, which will be waited for, is to determine everything. I
forgive you a coarse expression in your last, which, however, I wish had
not been there. You might have said something like it without expressing
it in that manner; but there was so much complaisance in the rest of it
I ought to be satisfied. You can shew me no goodness I shall not be
sensible of. However, think again, and resolve never to think of me if
you have the least doubt, or that it is likely to make you uneasy in
your fortune. I believe to travel is the most likely way to make a
solitude agreeable, and not tiresome: remember you have promised it.

'Tis something odd for a woman that brings nothing to expect anything;
but after the way of education, I dare not pretend to live but in some
degree suitable to it. I had rather die than return to a dependancy upon
relations I have disobliged. Save me from that fear if you love me. If
you cannot, or think I ought not to expect it, be sincere and tell me
so. 'Tis better I should not be yours at all, than, for a short
happiness, involve myself in ages of misery. I hope there will never be
occasion for this precaution; but, however, 'tis necessary to make it. I
depend entirely on your honour, and I cannot suspect you of any way
doing wrong. Do not imagine I shall be angry at any thing you can tell
me. Let it be sincere; do not impose on a woman that leaves all things
for you.

FOOTNOTES:

[104] The likeness, however, ended with the favouritism: for Madame de
Grignan, in spite of good looks and good wits, was apparently detested
by everybody, except her mother, and deserved it: while nobody has
anything to say against Lady Bute.

[105] It is, of course, not _merely_ business-like--the mixture of
something else makes it rather fascinating. They were curiously fond of
elopements in the eighteenth century, Sheridan's satire in _The Rivals_
having ample justification. Nor was this merely due to the more severe
exercise of p