selfish as to desire, nor so romantic as to expect, that he should
descend from the rank of life he has been bred in, and live lost to the
world with me.

As to the impertinence of two or three women, I hear of it with
perfect indifference: my dear Rivers esteems me, he approves my
conduct, and all else is below my care: the applause of worlds would
give me less pleasure than one smile of approbation from him.

I am astonished your father should know me so little, as to suppose
me capable of being influenced even by you: when I determined to refuse
Sir George, it was from the feelings of my own heart alone; the first
moment I saw Colonel Rivers convinced me my heart had till then been a
stranger to true tenderness: from that moment my life has been one
continued struggle between my reason, which shewed me the folly as well
as indecency of marrying one man when I so infinitely preferred
another, and a false point of honor and mistaken compassion: from which
painful state, a concurrence of favorable accidents has at length
happily relieved me, and left me free to act as becomes me.

Of this, my dear, be assured, that, though I have not the least idea
of ever marrying Colonel Rivers, yet, whilst my sentiments for him
continue what they are, I will never marry any other man.

I am hurt at what Mrs. Melmoth hinted in her letter to you, of
Rivers having appeared to attach himself to me from vanity; she
endeavors in vain to destroy my esteem for him: you well know, he never
did appear to attach himself to me; he is incapable of having done it
from such a motive; but if he had, such delight have I in whatever
pleases him, that I should with joy have sacrificed my own vanity to
gratify his.

Adieu! Your
Emily Montague.

LETTER 74.

To Miss Montague.

Feb. 25, Eight o'clock, just up.

My dear, you deceive yourself; you love Colonel Rivers; you love him
even with all the tenderness of romance: read over again the latter
part of your letter; I know friendship, and of what it is capable; but
I fear the sacrifices it makes are of a different nature.

Examine your heart, my Emily, and tell me the result of that
examination. It is of the utmost consequence to you to be clear as to
the nature of your affection for Rivers.

Adieu! Yours,
A. Fermor.

LETTER 75.

To Miss Fermor.

Yes, my dear Bell, you know me better than I know myself; your Emily
loves.--But tell me, and wit