of another kind than that you so readily avow. But if, Sir, you have the
least mixture in yours of that pride which may be expected, and thought
laudable, in a man of your birth, alliances, and fortune, you should
rather wish, I will presume to say, to promote what you call my pride,
than either to suppress it, or to regret that I have it. It is this my
acknowledged pride, proceeded I, that induces me to tell you, Sir, that I
think it beneath me to disown what have been my motives for declining,
for some days past, any conversation with you, or visit from Mr. Mennell,
that might lead to points out of my power to determine upon, until I
heard from my uncle Harlowe; whom, I confess, I have caused to be
sounded, whether I might be favoured with his interest to obtain for me
a reconciliation with my friends, upon terms which I had caused to be
proposed.

I know not, said he, and suppose must not presume to ask, what those
terms were. But I can but too well guess at them; and that I was to have
been the preliminary sacrifice. But you must allow me, Madam, to say,
That as much as I admire the nobleness of your sentiments in general, and
in particular that laudable pride which you have spoken of, I wish that I
could compliment you with such an uniformity in it, as had set you as
much above all submission to minds implacable and unreasonable, (I hope I
may, without offence, say, that your brother's and sister's are such,) as
it has above all favour and condescension to me.

Duty and nature, Sir, call upon me to make the submissions you speak of:
there is a father, there is a mother, there are uncles in the one case,
to justify and demand those submissions. What, pray, Sir, can be pleaded
for the condescension, as you call it? Will you say, your merits, either
with regard to them, or to myself, may?

This, Madam, to be said, after the persecutions of those relations!
After what you have suffered! After what you have made me hope! Let me,
my dearest creature, ask you, (we have been talking of pride,) What sort
of pride must his be, which can dispense with inclination and preference
in the lady whom he adores?--What must that love--

Love, Sir! who talks of love?--Was not merit the thing we were talking
of?--Have I ever professed, have I ever required of you professions of a
passion of that nature?--But there is no end of these debatings; each so
faultless, each so full of self--

I do not think myself faultless, Mada