This violent tragedy-speech, and the high manner in which she uttered it, had its desired effect.  I looked upon the women, and upon her by turns, with a pitying eye; and they shook their wise heads, and besought me to retire, and her to lie down to compose herself.

This hurricane, like other hurricanes, was presently allayed by a shower.  She threw herself once more into her armed chair, and begged pardon of the women for her passionate excess; but not of me:  yet I was in hopes, that when compliments were stirring, I should have come in for a share.

Indeed, Ladies, said I, [with assurance enough, thou’lt say,] this violence is not natural to my beloved’s temper—­misapprehension—­

Misapprehension, wretch!—­And want I excuses from thee!

Bu what a scorn was every lovely feature agitated!

Then turning her face from me, I have not patience, O thou guileful betrayer, to look upon thee!  Begone!  Begone!  With a face so unblushing, how darest thou appear in my presence?

I thought then, that the character of a husband obliged me to be angry.

You may one day, Madam, repent this treatment:—­by my soul, you may.  You know I have not deserved it of you—­you know—­I have not.

Do I know you have not?—­Wretch!  Do I know—­

You do, Madam—­and never did man of my figure and consideration, [I thought it was proper to throw that in] meet with such treatment—­

She lifted up her hands:  indignation kept her silent.

But all is of a piece with the charge you bring against me of despoiling you of all succour and help, of making you poor and low, and with other unprecedented language.  I will only say, before these two gentlewomen, that since it must be so, and since your former esteem for me is turned into so riveted an aversion, I will soon, very soon, make you entirely easy.  I will be gone:—­I will leave you to your own fate, as you call it; and may that be happy!—­Only, that I may not appear to be a spoiler, a robber indeed, let me know whither I shall send your apparel, and every thing that belongs to you, and I will send it.

Send it to this place; and assure me, that you will never molest me more; never more come near me; and that is all I ask of you.

I will do so, Madam, said I, with a dejected air.  But did I ever think I should be so indifferent to you?—­However, you must permit me to insist on your reading this letter; and on your seeing Captain Tomlinson, and hearing what he has to say from your uncle.  He will be here by-and-by.

Don’t trifle with me, said she in an imperious tone—­do as you offer.  I will not receive any letter from your hands.  If I see Captain Tomlinson, it shall be on his own account, not on your’s.  You tell me you will send me my apparel—­if you would have me believe any thing you say, let this be the test of your sincerity.—­Leave me now, and send my things.