left me to say or to do, is to thank you
for your favourable opinion of me, as I have thanked Mr. Fenwick; and to
desire that you will allow me to look upon you as my neighbour, and only
as my neighbour.

I courtesied to him, and withdrew.

But my great difficulty had been before with Mr. Orme.

His sister had desired that I would see her brother. He and she were
invited by my aunt to dinner on Tuesday. They came. Poor man! He is
not well! I am sorry for it. Poor Mr. Orme is not well! He made me
such honest compliments, as I may say: his heart was too much in his
civilities to raise them above the civilities that justice and truth
might warrant in favour of a person highly esteemed. Mine was filled
with compassion for him; and that compassion would have shewn itself in
tokens of tenderness, more than once, had I not restrained myself for his
sake. How you, my dear Lady G----, can delight in giving pain to an
honest heart, I cannot imagine. I would make all God Almighty's
creatures happy, if I could; and so would your noble brother. Is he not
crossing dangerous seas, and ascending, through almost perpetual snows,
those dreadful Alps which I have heard described with such terror, for
the generous end of relieving distress?

I made Mr. Orme sit next me. I was assiduous to help him, and to do him
all the little offices which I thought would light up pleasure in his
modest countenance; and he was quite another man. It gave delight to his
sister, and to all my friends, to see him smile, and look happy.

I think, my dear Lady G----, that when Mr. Orme looks pleasant, and at
ease, he resembles a little the good-natured Lord G----. O that you
would take half the pains to oblige him, that I do to relieve Mr. Orme!--
Half the pains, did I say? That you would not take pains to dis-oblige
him; and he would be, of course, obliged. Don't be afraid, my dear,
that, in such a world as this, things will not happen to make you uneasy
without your studying for them.

Excuse my seriousness: I am indeed too serious, at times.

But when Mr. Orme requested a few minutes' audience of me, as he called
it, and I walked with him into the cedar parlour, which you have heard me
mention, and with which I hope you will be one day acquainted; he paid,
poor man! for his too transient pleasure. Why would he urge a denial
that he could not but know I must give?

His sister and I had afterwards a conference. She pleaded too strongly
her brother's