She pitied my Lord.  She pitied poor Mrs. Fretchville too; for she had the goodness to inquire after her.  The dear creature pitied every body that seemed to want pity.  Happy in her own prospects, she had leisure to look abroad, and wishes every body equally happy.

It is likely to go very hard with Mrs. Fretchville.  Her face, which she had valued herself upon, will be utterly ruined.  ’This good, however, as I could not but observe, she may reap from so great an evil—­as the greater malady generally swallows up the less, she may have a grief on this occasion, that may diminish the other grief, and make it tolerable.’

I had a gentle reprimand for this light turn on so heavy an evil—­’For what was the loss of beauty to the loss of a good husband?’—­Excellent creature!

Her hopes (and her pleasure upon those hopes) that Miss Howe’s mother would be reconciled to her, were also mentioned.  Good Mrs. Howe was her word, for a woman so covetous, and so remorseless in her covetousness, that no one else will call her good.  But this dear creature has such an extension in her love, as to be capable of valuing the most insignificant animal related to those whom she respects.  Love me, and love my dog, I have heard Lord M. say.—­Who knows, but that I may in time, in compliment to myself, bring her to think well of thee, Jack?

But what am I about?  Am I not all this time arraigning my own heart?—­I know I am, by the remorse I feel in it, while my pen bears testimony to her excellence.  But yet I must add (for no selfish consideration shall hinder me from doing justice to this admirable creature) that in this conversation she demonstrated so much prudent knowledge in every thing that relates to that part of the domestic management which falls under the care of a mistress of a family, that I believe she has no equal of her years in the world.

But, indeed, I know not the subject on which she does not talk with admirable distinction; insomuch that could I but get over my prejudices against matrimony, and resolve to walk in the dull beaten path of my ancestors, I should be the happiest of men—­and if I cannot, I may be ten times more to be pitied than she.

My heart, my heart, Belford, is not to be trusted—­I break off, to re-peruse some of Miss Howe’s virulence.

***

Cursed letters, these of Miss Howe, Jack!—­Do thou turn back to those of mine, where I take notice of them—­I proceed—­

Upon the whole, my charmer was all gentleness, all ease, all serenity, throughout this sweet excursion.  Nor had she reason to be otherwise:  for it being the first time that I had the honour of her company alone, I was resolved to encourage her, by my respectfulness, to repeat the favour.

On our return, I found the counsellor’s clerk waiting for me, with a draught of the marriage-settlements.

They are drawn, with only the necessary variations, from those made for my mother.  The original of which (now returned by the counsellor) as well as the new draughts, I have put into my beloved’s hands.