He promises by them to make the best of husbands; and my Lord, and Lady Sarah, and Lady Betty, are all three to be guarantees that he will be so.  Noble settlements, noble presents, they talked of:  they say, they left Lord M. and his two sisters talking of nothing else but of those presents and settlements, how most to do you honour, the greater in proportion for the indignities you have suffered; and of changing of names by act of parliament, preparative to the interest they will all join to make to get the titles to go where the bulk of the estate must go, at my Lord’s death, which they apprehend to be nearer than they wish.  Nor doubt they of a thorough reformation in his morals, from your example and influence over him.

I made a great many objections for you—­all, I believe, that you could have made yourself, had you been present.  But I have no doubt to advise you, my dear, (and so does my mother,) instantly to put yourself into Lady Betty’s protection, with a resolution to take the wretch for your husband.  All his future grandeur [he wants not pride] depends upon his sincerity to you; and the young ladies vouch for the depth of his concern for the wrongs he has done you.

All his apprehension is, in your readiness to communicate to every one, as he fears, the evils you have suffered; which he thinks will expose you both.  But had you not revealed them to Lady Betty, you had not had so warm a friend; since it is owing to two letters you wrote to her, that all this good, as I hope it will prove, was brought about.  But I advise you to be more sparing in exposing what is past, whether you have thoughts of accepting him or not:  for what, my dear, can that avail now, but to give a handle to vile wretches to triumph over your friends; since every one will not know how much to your honour your very sufferings have been?

Your melancholy letter brought by Rogers,* with his account of your indifferent health, confirmed to him by the woman of the house, as well as by your looks and by your faintness while you talked with him, would have given me inexpressible affliction, had I not bee cheered by this agreeable visit from the young ladies.  I hope you will be equally so on my imparting the subject of it to you.

* See Letter II. of this volume.

Indeed, my dear, you must not hesitate.  You must oblige them.  The alliance is splendid and honourable.  Very few will know any thing of his brutal baseness to you.  All must end, in a little while, in a general reconciliation; and you will be able to resume your course of doing the good to every deserving object, which procured you blessings wherever you set your foot.

I am concerned to find, that your father’s inhuman curse affects you so much as it does.  Yet you are a noble creature to put it, as you put it—­ I hope you are indeed more solicitous to get it revoked for their sakes than for your own.  It is for them to be penitent, who hurried you into evils you could not well avoid.  You are apt to judge by the unhappy event, rather than upon the true merits of your case.  Upon my honour, I think you faultless almost in every step you have taken.  What has not that vilely-insolent and ambitious, yet stupid, brother of your’s to answer for?—­that spiteful thing your sister too!