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said
nothing that discovered her sentiments on this point, and with all the
appearance of a perfect ease of mind, asked what he had to deliver to
her. Only a song, mademoiselle, answered he, which my master ordered me
to give you, and to desire you will let him know how you like it:--he
says it might be turned into an admirable duetto, and begs you would
employ your genius on that score and send it by me.
Poor Louisa, who took his words literally, and thought her present
circumstances too discordant for the fulfilling his request, opened the
supposed piece of music with an aking heart; but when she had perused
it, and found the artifice her lover had made use of to communicate his
generous intentions to her, it is extremely fine, said she to the valet,
and I will do what he requires to the best of my power, but fear I shall
not be able to give it such a turn as he may expect. If you please,
continued she, to wait a little, I shall not be long before I dispatch
you. In speaking these words she went into her closet, and read over and
over the offers he had made, in which, with the strictest examination,
she could find nothing but what indicated the most perfect love, honour,
and generosity. In the first transports of her soul she was tempted to
comply; but her second thoughts were absolutely against it.--Those very
reasons which would have prevailed with almost any other woman, made her
obstinate to refuse:--the more she found him worthy, the less could she
support the thoughts of giving him a beggar for a wife; and the more she
loved him, the less could she content to be obliged to him; so she took
but a small time for consideration, before she returned an answer in
these terms:
_To the most accomplished, and most generous monsieur_ DU PLESSIS.
"As it was not owing to my pride or vanity,
but merely compliance with the will of
Melanthe, that my real meanness was made a
secret, I find it revealed without any mortification;
but, monsieur, the distance between us
is not shortened by being known: as the consciousness
of my unworthiness remains with
me, and ever must do so, I again repeat the
impossibility of accepting your too generous passion,
and, after this, you will not wonder I
should refuse those other obliging offers you are
so good to make.--I left my native country
with Melanthe, devoted myself to her service
while she was pleased to continue me in it, and
only wait her commands for my doing so, or to
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