The Captain, I told her, was rid down post, in a manner, to forward my wishes with her uncle.—­Lady Betty and Miss Montague were undoubtedly arrived in town by this time.  I would set out early in the morning to attend them.  They adored her.  They longed to see her.  They would see her.—­They would not be denied her company in Oxfordshire.  Whither could she better go, to be free from her brother’s insults?—­Whither, to be absolutely made unapprehensive of any body else?—­Might I have any hopes of her returning favour, if Miss Howe could be prevailed upon to intercede for me?

Miss Howe prevailed upon to intercede for you! repeated she, with a scornful bridle, but a very pretty one.—­And there she stopt.

I repeated the concern it would be to me to be under a necessity of mentioning the misunderstanding to Lady Betty and my cousin, as a misunderstanding still to be made up; and as if I were of very little consequence to a dear creature who was of so much to me; urging, that these circumstances would extremely lower me not only in my own opinion, but in that of my relations.

But still she referred to Miss Howe’s next letter; and all the concession I could bring her to in this whole conference, was, that she would wait the arrival and visit of the two ladies, if they came in a day or two, or before she received the expected letter from Miss Howe.

Thank Heaven for this! thought I. And now may I go to town with hopes at my return to find thee, dearest, where I shall leave thee.

But yet, as she may find reasons to change her mind in my absence, I shall not entirely trust to this.  My fellow, therefore, who is in the house, and who, by Mrs. Bevis’s kind intelligence, will know every step she can take, shall have Andrew and a horse ready, to give me immediate notice of her motions; and moreover, go whither she will, he shall be one of her retinue, though unknown to herself, if possible.

This was all I could make of the fair inexorable.  Should I be glad of it, or sorry for it?—­

Glad I believe:  and yet my pride is confoundedly abated, to think that I had so little hold in the affections of this daughter of the Harlowes.

Don’t tell me that virtue and principle are her guides on this occasion!  —­’Tis pride, a greater pride than my own, that governs her.  Love, she has none, thou seest; nor ever had; at least not in a superior degree.  Love, that deserves the name, never was under the dominion of prudence, or of any reasoning power.  She cannot bear to be thought a woman, I warrant!  And if, in the last attempt, I find her not one, what will she be the worse for the trial?—­No one is to blame for suffering an evil he cannot shun or avoid.

Were a general to be overpowered, and robbed by a highwayman, would he be less fit for the command of an army on that account?—­If indeed the general, pretending great valour, and having boasted that he never would be robbed, were to make but faint resistance when he was brought to the test, and to yield his purse when he was master of his own sword, then indeed will the highwayman who robs him be thought the braver man.