She then fell into family talk; family happiness on my hoped-for accession into it.  They mentioned Lord M.’s and Lady Sarah’s great desire to see me:  how many friends and admirers, with uplift hands, I should have! [Oh! my dear, what a triumph must these creatures, and he, have over the poor devoted all the time!]—­What a happy man he would be!  —­They would not, the Lady Betty said, give themselves the mortification but to suppose that I should not be one of them!

Presents were hinted at.  She resolved that I should go with her to Glenham-hall.  She would not be refused, although she were to stay a week beyond her time for me.

She longed for the expected letter from you.  I must write to hasten it, and to let Miss Howe know how every thing stood since I wrote last.  That might dispose me absolutely in her favour and in her nephew’s; and then she hoped there would be no occasion for me to think of entering upon any new measures.

Indeed, my dear, I did at the time intend, if I heard not from you by morning, to dispatch a man and horse to you, with the particulars of all, that you might (if you thought proper) at least put off Mrs. Townsend’s coming up to another day.—­But I was miserably prevented.

She made me promise that I would write to you upon this subject, whether I heard from you or not.  One of her servants should ride post with my letter, and wait for Miss Howe’s answer.

She then launched out in deserved praises of you, my dear.  How fond she should be of the honour of your acquaintance.

The pretended Miss Montague joined in with her, as well for herself as for her sister.

Abominably well instructed were they both!

O my dear! what risks may poor giddy girls run, when they throw themselves out of the protection of their natural friends, and into the wide world!

The then talked again of reconciliation and intimacy with every one of my friends; with my mother particularly; and gave the dear good lady the praises that every one gives her, who has the happiness to know her.

Ah, my dear Miss Howe!  I had almost forgot my resentments against the pretended nephew!—­So many agreeable things said, made me think, that, if you should advise it, and if I could bring my mind to forgive the wretch for an outrage so premeditatedly vile, and could forbear despising him for that and his other ungrateful and wicked ways, I might not be unhappy in an alliance with such a family.  Yet, thought I at the time, with what intermixture does every thing come to me that had the appearance of good! ——­However, as my lucid hopes made me see fewer faults in the behaviour of these pretended ladies, than recollection and abhorrence have helped me since to see, I began to reproach myself, that I had not at first thrown myself into their protection.

But amidst all these delightful prospects, I must not, said the Lady Betty, forget that I am to go to town.