ade use of, and the actions that accompanied them, she wanted even the
power of repulsing, till seeing her almost breathless, he withdrew his
arms which he had thrown round her neck, and contenting himself with
holding one of her hands,--Tell me, pursued he, when may I hope a
recompence for all I have suffered?--I must, I will have an end of all
these fears of offending;--this cruel constaint;--this distance between
us.--Few men, Louisa, in the circumstances we both are, would, like me,
so long attend a happiness in my power to seize.--Trifle not therefore
with a passion, the consequences of which there is no answering for.

O, sir! said she, with a trembling voice, you cannot, from the most
generous, virtuous and honourable man living, degenerate into a brutal
ravisher.--You will not destroy the innocence you have cherished, and
which is all that is valuable in the poor Louisa. She ended these words
with a flood of tears, which, together with the sight of the confusion
he had occasioned, made him a little recollect himself; and to prevent
the wildness of his desires from getting the better of those rules he
had resolved to observe, he let go her hand, and having told her that he
would press her no farther that night, but expected a more satisfactory
answer the next day, went out of her chamber, and left her to enjoy what
repose she could after the alarm he had given her.

CHAP. III.

_Dorilaus continues his importunities, with some unexpected consequences
that attended them_.

Poor Louisa concealed the distraction she was in as much as possible she
could from the maid, who immediately came into the room on Dorilaus
having quitted it, and suffered her to undress, and put her to bed as
usual; but was no sooner there, than instead of composing herself to
sleep, she began to reflect on what he had said:--the words, _that there
was no answering for the consequences of a passion such as his_, gave
her the most terrible idea.--His actions too, this night, seem'd to
threaten her with all a virgin had to fear.--She knew him a man of
honour, but thought she had too much reason to suspect that if she
persisted in refusing to be his wife, that passion which had influenced
him, contrary to his character, to make her such an offer, would also be
too potent for any consideration of her to restrain him from proceeding
to extremities. Having debated every thing within her own mind, she
thought she ought not to continue a day lon