a confused
mixture of voices, some louder than others, which drowned the more
compassionating accents.

Female accents I could distinguish the drowned ones to be. O my dear!
what a hard-hearted sex is the other! Children of the same parents, how
came they by their cruelty?--Do they get it by travel?--Do they get
it by conversation with one another?--Or how do they get it?--Yet my
sister, too, is as hard-hearted as any of them. But this may be no
exception neither: for she has been thought to be masculine in her air
and her spirit. She has then, perhaps, a soul of the other sex in a body
of ours. And so, for the honour of our own, will I judge of every
woman for the future, who imitating the rougher manners of men, acts
unbeseeming the gentleness of her own sex.

Forgive me, my dear friend, for breaking into my story by these
reflections. Were I rapidly to pursue my narration, without thinking,
without reflecting, I believe I should hardly be able to keep in my
right mind: since vehemence and passion would then be always uppermost;
but while I think as I write, I cool, and my hurry of spirits is
allayed.

I believe I was about a quarter of an hour enjoying my own comfortless
contemplations, before any body came in to me; for they seemed to be
in full debate. My aunt looked in first; O my dear, said she, are you
there? and withdrew hastily to apprize them of it.

And then (as agreed upon I suppose) in came my uncle Antony, crediting
Mr. Solmes with the words, Let me lead you in, my dear friend, having
hold of his hand; while the new-made beau awkwardly followed, but more
edgingly, as I may say, setting his feet mincingly, to avoid treading
upon his leader's heels. Excuse me, my dear, this seeming levity; but
those we do not love, appear in every thing ungraceful to us.

I stood up. My uncle looked very surly.--Sit down!--Sit down, Girl,
said he.--And drawing a chair near me, he placed his dear friend in it,
whether he would or not, I having taken my seat. And my uncle sat on the
other side of me.

Well, Niece, taking my hand, we shall have very little more to say to
you than we have already said, as to the subject that is so distasteful
to you--unless, indeed, you have better considered of the matter--And
first let me know if you have?

The matter wants no consideration, Sir.

Very well, very well, Madam! said my uncle, withdrawing his hands from
mine: Could I ever have thought of this from you?

For God's sa