ned that name, and he should hear
farther.

I was a little surprised, even before I knew anything of who it was, my
mind foreboding the thing as it happened (whence that arises let the
naturalists explain to us); but I was frighted and ready to die when my
Quaker came up all gay and crowing. "There," says she, "is the Dutch
French merchant come to see thee." I could not speak one word to her nor
stir off of my chair, but sat as motionless as a statue. She talked a
thousand pleasant things to me, but they made no impression on me. At
last she pulled me and teased me. "Come, come," says she, "be thyself,
and rouse up. I must go down again to him; what shall I say to him?"
"Say," said I, "that you have no such body in the house." "That I
cannot do," says she, "because it is not the truth. Besides, I have
owned thou art above. Come, come, go down with me." "Not for a thousand
guineas," said I. "Well," says she, "I'll go and tell him thou wilt come
quickly." So, without giving me time to answer her, away she goes.

A million of thoughts circulated in my head while she was gone, and what
to do I could not tell; I saw no remedy but I must speak with him, but
would have given L500 to have shunned it; yet had I shunned it, perhaps
then I would have given L500 again that I had seen him. Thus fluctuating
and unconcluding were my thoughts, what I so earnestly desired I
declined when it offered itself; and what now I pretended to decline was
nothing but what I had been at the expense of L40 or L50 to send Amy to
France for, and even without any view, or, indeed, any rational
expectation of bringing it to pass; and what for half a year before I
was so uneasy about that I could not be quiet night or day till Amy
proposed to go over to inquire after him. In short, my thoughts were all
confused and in the utmost disorder. I had once refused and rejected
him, and I repented it heartily; then I had taken ill his silence, and
in my mind rejected him again, but had repented that too. Now I had
stooped so low as to send after him into France, which if he had known,
perhaps, he had never come after me; and should I reject him a third
time! On the other hand, he had repented too, in his turn, perhaps, and
not knowing how I had acted, either in stooping to send in search after
him or in the wickeder part of my life, was come over hither to seek me
again; and I might take him, perhaps, with the same advantages as I
might have done before, and w