The dear creature wept.  She knew how to apply as meant the Captain’s hint to the occasion of her uncle’s declining state of health.

Capt.  We might indeed, I told him, set out in that road, but turn short to town in my chariot; and he might see the ceremony performed with his own eyes, and be the desired father, as well as the beloved uncle.

She turned from us, and wiped her eyes.

Capt.  And, really, there seem now to be but two objections to this, as Mr. Harlowe discouraged not the proposal—­The one, the unhappy misunderstanding between you; which I would not by any means he should know; since then he might be apt to give weight to Mr. James Harlowe’s unjust surmises.—­The other, that it would necessarily occasion some delay to the ceremony; which certainly may be performed in a day or two —­if—­

And then he reverently bowed to my goddess.—­Charming fellow!—­But often did I curse my stars, for making me so much obliged to his adroitness.

She was going to speak; but, not liking the turn of her countenance (although, as I thought, its severity and indignation seemed a little abated) I said, and had like to have blown myself up by it—­one expedient I have just thought of—­

Cl.  None of your expedients, Mr. Lovelace!—­I abhor your expedients, your inventions—­I have had too many of them.

Lovel.  See, Capt.  Tomlinson!—­See, Sir!—­O how we expose ourselves to you!—­Little did you think, I dare say, that we have lived in such a continued misunderstanding together!—­But you will make the best of it all.  We may yet be happy.  Oh! that I could have been assured that this dear creature loved me with the hundredth part of the love I have for her!—­Our diffidences have been mutual.  I presume to say that she has too much punctilio:  I am afraid that I have too little.  Hence our difficulties.  But I have a heart, Captain Tomlinson, a heart, that bids me hope for her love, because it is resolved to deserve it as much as man can deserve it.

Capt.  I am indeed surprised at what I have seen and heard.  I defend not Mr. Lovelace, Madam, in the offence he has given you—­as a father of daughters myself, I cannot defend him; though his fault seems to be lighter than I had apprehended—­but in my conscience, Madam, I think you carry your resentment too high.

Cl.  Too high, Sir!—­Too high to the man that might have been happy if he would!  Too high to the man that has held my soul in suspense an hundred times, since (by artifice and deceit) he obtained a power over me!—­Say, Lovelace, thyself say, art thou not the very Lovelace, who by insulting me, hast wronged thine own hopes?—­The wretch that appeared in vile disguises, personating an old, lame creature, seeking for lodgings for thy sick wife?—­Telling the gentlewomen here stories all of thine own invention; and asserting to them an husband’s right over me, which thou hast not!—­And is it [turning to the Captain] to be expected, that I should give credit to the protestations of such a man?