rought
in, supported by Mrs. Norton; who is to be first tutored to instruct me
in the duty of a child; which it seems I have forgotten.

Nor is the success at all doubted, my aunt says: since it is not
believed that I can be hardened enough to withstand the expostulations
of so venerable a judicature, although I have withstood those of several
of them separately. And still the less, as she hints at extraordinary
condescensions from my father. But what condescensions, even from my
father, can induce me to make such a sacrifice as is expected from me?

Yet my spirits will never bear up, I doubt, at such a tribunal--my
father presiding in it.

Indeed I expected that my trials would not be at an end till he had
admitted me into his awful presence.

What is hoped from me, she says, is, that I will cheerfully, on Tuesday
night, if not before, sign the articles; and so turn the succeeding
day's solemn convention into a day of festivity. I am to have the
license sent me up, however, and once more the settlements, that I may
see how much in earnest they are.

She further hinted, that my father himself would bring up the
settlements for me to sign.

O my dear! what a trial will this be!--How shall I be able to refuse my
father the writing of my name?--To my father, from whose presence I
have been so long banished!--He commanding and entreating, perhaps, in a
breath!--How shall I be able to refuse this to my father?

They are sure, she says, something is working on Mr. Lovelace's part,
and perhaps on mine: and my father would sooner follow to the grave,
than see me his wife.

I said, I was not well: that the very apprehensions of these trials were
already insupportable to me; and would increase upon me, as the time
approached; and I was afraid I should be extremely ill.

They had prepared themselves for such an artifice as that, was my aunt's
unkind word; and she could assure me, it would stand me in no stead.

Artifice! repeated I: and this from my aunt Hervey?

Why, my dear, said she, do you think people are fools?--Can they not see
how dismally you endeavour to sigh yourself down within-doors?--How you
hang down your sweet face [those were the words she was pleased to use]
upon your bosom?--How you totter, as it were, and hold by this chair,
and by that door post, when you know that any body sees you? [This, my
dear Miss Howe, is an aspersion to fasten hypocrisy and contempt upon
me: my brother's or sister's aspers