And then he solemnly vowed to me the strictest observance of the same respectful behaviour to me.

I said, that I was not by any means satisfied with the tale he had told, nor with the necessity he wanted to lay me under of appearing what I was not:  that every step he took was a wry one, a needless wry one:  and since he thought it necessary to tell the people below any thing about me, I insisted that he should unsay all he had said, and tell them the truth.

What he had told them, he said, was with so many circumstances, that he could sooner die than contradict it.  And still he insisted upon the propriety of appearing to be married, for the reasons he had given before—­And, dearest creature, said he, why this high displeasure with me upon so well-intended an expedient?  You know, that I cannot wish to shun your brother, or his Singleton, but upon your account.  The first step I would take, if left to myself, would be to find them out.  I have always acted in this manner, when any body has presumed to give out threatenings against it.

’Tis true I would have consulted you first, and had your leave.  But since you dislike what I have said, let me implore you, dearest Madam, to give the only proper sanction to it, by naming an early day.  Would to Heaven that were to be to-morrow!—­For God’s sake, let it be to-morrow!  But, if not, [was it his business, my dear, before I spoke (yet he seemed to be afraid of me) to say, if not?] let me beseech you, Madam, if my behaviour shall not be to your dislike, that you will not to-morrow, at breakfast-time, discredit what I have told them.  The moment I give you cause to think that I take any advantage of your concession, that moment revoke it, and expose me, as I shall deserve.—­And once more, let me remind you, that I have no view either to serve or save myself by this expedient.  It is only to prevent a probable mischief, for your own mind’s sake; and for the sake of those who deserve not the least consideration from me.

What could I say?  What could I do?—­I verily think, that had he urged me again, in a proper manner, I should have consented (little satisfied as I am with him) to give him a meeting to-morrow morning at a more solemn place than in the parlour below.

But this I resolve, that he shall not have my consent to stay a night under this roof.  He has now given me a stronger reason for this determination than I had before.

***

Alas! my dear, how vain a thing to say, what we will, or what we will not do, when we have put ourselves into the power of this sex!—­He went down to the people below, on my desiring to be left to myself; and staid till their supper was just ready; and then, desiring a moment’s audience, as he called it, he besought my leave to stay that one night, promising to set out either for Lord M.’s, or for Edgeware, to his friend Belford’s, in the morning, after breakfast.  But if I were against it, he said,