But mind, moreover, how plausibly she accounts by this billet, (supposing she should not find an opportunity of eloping before I returned,) for the resolution of not seeing me for a week; and for the bread and butter expedient!—­So childish as we thought it!

The chariot is not come; and if it were, it is yet too soon for every thing but my impatience.  And as I have already taken all my measures, and can think of nothing but my triumph, I will resume her violent letter, in order to strengthen my resolutions against her.  I was before in too gloomy a way to proceed with it.  But now the subject is all alive to me, and my gayer fancy, like the sunbeams, will irradiate it, and turn the solemn deep-green into a brighter verdure.

When I have called upon my charmer to explain some parts of her letter, and to atone for others, I will send it, or a copy of it, to thee.

Suffice it at present to tell thee, in the first place, that she is determined never to be my wife.—­To be sure there ought to be no compulsion in so material a case.  Compulsion was her parents’ fault, which I have censured so severely, that I shall hardly be guilty of the same.  I am therefore glad I know her mind as to this essential point.

I have ruined her! she says.—­Now that’s a fib, take it her own way—­if I had, she would not, perhaps, have run away from me.

She is thrown upon the wide world!  Now I own that Hampstead-heath affords very pretty and very extensive prospects; but ’tis not the wide world neither.  And suppose that to be her grievance, I hope soon to restore her to a narrower.

I am the enemy of her soul, as well as of her honour!—­Confoundedly severe!  Nevertheless, another fib!—­For I love her soul very well; but think no more of it in this case than of my own.

She is to be thrown upon strangers!—­And is not that her own fault?—­Much against my will, I am sure!

She is cast from a state of independency into one of obligation.  She never was in a state of independency; nor is it fit a woman should, of any age, or in any state of life.  And as to the state of obligation, there is no such thing as living without being beholden to somebody.  Mutual obligation is the very essence and soul of the social and commercial life:—­Why should she be exempt from it?  I am sure the person she raves at desires not such an exemption; has been long dependent upon her; and would rejoice to owe further obligations to her than he can boast of hitherto.

She talks of her father’s curse!—­But have I not repaid him for it an hundred fold in the same coin?  But why must the faults of other people be laid at my door?  Have I not enow of my own?

But the grey-eyed dawn begins to peep—­let me sum up all.