ild.

JAMES HARLOWE.

I was vexed to the heart at this: and immediately, in the warmth of
resentment, wrote the enclosed to my uncle Harlowe; who it seems stays
here this night.

TO JOHN HARLOWE, ESQ. MONDAY NIGHT.

HONOURED SIR,

I find I am a very sad creature, and did not know it. I wrote not to my
brother. To you, Sir, I wrote. From you I hope the honour of an answer.
No one reveres her uncle more than I do. Nevertheless, between uncle and
niece, excludes not such a hope: and I think I have not made a proposal
that deserves to be treated with scorn.

Forgive me, Sir--my heart is full. Perhaps one day you may think you
have been prevailed upon (for that is plainly the case!) to join to
treat me--as I do not deserve to be treated. If you are ashamed, as my
brother hints, of having expressed any returning tenderness to me, God
help me! I see I have no mercy to expect from any body! But, Sir, from
your pen let me have an answer; I humbly implore it of you. Till my
brother can recollect what belongs to a sister, I will not take from him
no answer to the letter I wrote to you, nor any commands whatever.

I move every body!--This, Sir, is what you are pleased to mention. But
whom have I moved?--One person in the family has more moving ways than I
have, or he could never so undeservedly have made every body ashamed to
show tenderness to a poor distressed child of the same family.

Return me not this with contempt, or torn, or unanswered, I beseech you.
My father has a title to do that or any thing by his child: but from no
other person in the world of your sex, Sir, ought a young creature of
mine (while she preserves a supplicating spirit) to be so treated.

When what I have before written in the humblest strain has met with such
strange constructions, I am afraid that this unguarded scrawl will be
very ill received. But I beg, Sir, you will oblige me with one line, be
it ever so harsh, in answer to my proposal. I still think it ought to
be attended to. I will enter into the most solemn engagements to make it
valid by a perpetual single life. In a word, any thing I can do, I will
do, to be restored to all your favours. More I cannot say, but that I
am, very undeservedly,

A most unhappy creature.

Betty scrupled again to carry this letter; and said, she should have
anger; and I should have it returned in scraps and bits.

I must take that chance, said I: I only desire that you will deliver it
as directe