st what she should
say would either lose his friendship or encourage his passion.--Each
seemed equally dreadful to her:--no words presented themselves to her
distracted mind that she could think proper to utter, till he pressing
her several times to reply, and seeming a little to resent her
silence--Oh! sir, cried she, how is it possible for me to make any
answer to so strange a proposition!--you were not used to rally my
simplicity; nor can I think you mean what you now mention. If there
wanted no more, said he, than to prove the sincerity of my wishes in
this point to gain your approbation of them, my chaplain should this
moment put it past a doubt, and confirm my proposal:--but, pursued he, I
will not put your modesty to any farther shock at present;--all I
intreat is, that you will consider on what I have said, and what the
passion I am possessed of merits from you. In concluding these words he
kissed her with the utmost tenderness, and quitted her to speak to some
men who were at work in another part of the garden, leaving her to
meditate at liberty on this surprizing turn in her affairs.

It was indeed necessary he should do so, for the various agitations she
laboured under were so violent, as to be near throwing her into a
swoon.--She no sooner found herself alone, than she flew to her
chamber, and locked herself in, to prevent being interrupted by any of
the servants; and as in all emotions of the mind, especially in that of
a surprize, tears are a very great relief, her's found some ease from
the sources of her eyes.--Never had the most dutiful child loved the
tenderest of fathers more than she did Dorilaus; but then it was only a
filial affection, and the very thoughts of his regarding her with that
sort of passion she now found he did, had somewhat in them terribly
alarming.--All she could do to reconcile herself to what seemed to be
her fate was in vain.--This generous man who offers me his heart, said
she, is not my father, or any way of my blood:--he has all the
accomplishments of his whole sex centered in him.--I could wish to be
for ever near him.--All that I am is owing to his goodness.--How
wretched must I have been but for his bounty!--What unaccountable
prejudice is this then that strikes me with such horror at his
love!--what maid of birth and fortune equal to his own but would be
proud of his addresses; and shall I, a poor foundling, the creature of
his charity, not receive the honour he does me wi