ot, then you'd
consider whether you would or no; but yet you hoped you should not. I
take this to be the right interpretation of--even your kindness can't
destroy me of a sudden--I hope I am not in your power--I would give a
good deal to be satisfied, &c.

"As to writing--that any woman would do that thought she writ well. Now
I say, no woman of common sense would. At best, 'tis but doing a silly
thing well, and I think it is much better not to do a silly thing at
all. You compare it to dressing. Suppose the comparison just: perhaps
the Spanish dress would become my face very well; yet the whole town
would condemn me for the highest extravagance if I went to court in it,
though it improved me to a miracle. There are a thousand things, not ill
in themselves, which custom makes unfit to be done. This is to convince
you I am so far from applauding my own conduct, my conscience flies in
my face every time I think on't. The generality of the world have a
great indulgence to their own follies: without being a jot wiser than my
neighbours, I have the peculiar misfortune to know and condemn all the
wrong things I do.

"You beg to know whether I would not be out of humour. The expression is
modest enough; but that is not what you mean. In saying I could be easy,
I have already said I should not be out of humour: but you would have me
say I am violently in love; that is, finding you think better of me than
you desire, you would have me give you a just cause to contemn me. I
doubt much whether there is a creature in the world humble enough to do
that. I should not think you more unreasonable if you was in love with
my face, and asked me to disfigure it to make you easy. I have heard of
some nuns that made use of that expedient to secure their own happiness;
but, amongst all the popish saints and martyrs, I never read of one
whose charity was sublime enough to make themselves deformed, or
ridiculous, to restore their lovers to peace and quietness. In short, if
nothing can content you but despising me heartily, I am afraid I shall
be always so barbarous to wish you may esteem me as long as you live."

At last Montagu formally approached Lord Dorchester, who had no
objection whatever to him as a suitor for the hand of Lady Mary. They
could not come to terms in the matter of settlements. Dorchester
demanded that the estates should be put into entail. Also he desired
that his future son-in-law should provide a town residence for La