hink every body must see with their
eyes!--Pray, dear child, what becomes of your father's authority
here?--Who stoops here, the parent, or the child?--How does this square
with engagements actually agreed upon between your father and Mr.
Solmes? What security, that your rake will not follow you to the world's
end?--Nevertheless, that you may not think that I stand in the way of
a reconciliation on such fine terms as these, I will be your messenger
this once, and hear what my papa will say to it; although beforehand I
can tell you, these proposals will not answer the principal end.

So down she went. But, it seems, my aunt Hervey and my uncle Harlowe
were not gone away: and as they have all engaged to act in concert,
messengers were dispatched to my uncle and aunt to desire them to be
there to breakfast in the morning.

MONDAY NIGHT, ELEVEN O'CLOCK.

I am afraid I shall not be thought worthy--

Just as I began to fear I should not be thought worthy of an answer,
Betty rapped at my door, and said, if I were not in bed, she had a
letter for me. I had but just done writing the above dialogue, and stept
to the door with the pen in my hand--Always writing, Miss! said the
bold wench: it is admirable how you can get away what you write--but the
fairies, they say, are always at hand to help lovers.--She retired in
so much haste, that, had I been disposed, I could not take the notice of
this insolence which it deserved.

I enclose my brother's letter. He was resolved to let me see, that I
should have nothing to expect from his kindness. But surely he will
not be permitted to carry every point. The assembling of my friends
to-morrow is a good sign: and I will hope something from that, and from
proposals so reasonable. And now I will try if any repose will fall to
my lot for the remainder of this night.

TO MISS CLARY HARLOWE [ENCLOSED IN THE PRECEDING.]

Your proposals will be considered by your father and mother, and
all your friends, to-morrow morning. What trouble does your shameful
forwardness give us all! I wonder you have the courage to write to me,
upon whom you are so continually emptying your whole female quiver. I
have no patience with you, for reflecting upon me as the aggressor in a
quarrel which owed its beginning to my consideration for you.

You have made such confessions in a villain's favour, as ought to cause
all your relations to renounce you for ever. For my part, I will
not believe any woman in