sharer. Your own heart can best determine whether
upon their principles you are or not.”
He appeared mortified and chagrined; and we had walked
some distance without exchanging a word or a look.
At last he rejoined, “I plead guilty to the
charge, madam, which they have undoubtedly brought
against me, of imprudence and folly in many particulars;
yet of malignancy and vice I am innocent. Brought
up in affluence, inured from my infancy to the gratification
of every passion, the indulgence of every wish, it
is not strange that a life of dissipation and gayety
should prove alluring to a youthful mind which had
no care but to procure what is deemed enjoyment.
In this pursuit I have, perhaps, deviated from the
rigid rules of discretion and the harsher laws of
morality. But let the veil of charity be drawn
over my faults; let the eye of candor impartially
examine my present behavior; let the kind and lenient
hand of friendship assist in directing my future steps;
and perhaps I may not prove unworthy of associating
with the respectable inhabitants of this happy mansion;
for such I am sure it must be while honored with Miss
Wharton’s presence. But, circumstanced as
you and I are at present, I will not sue for your
attention as a lover, but rest contented, if possible,
with that share of kindness and regard which your
benevolence may afford me as a friend.”
I bowed in approbation of his resolution. He
pressed my hand with ardor to his lips; and at that
instant General Richman entered the garden. He
approached us cheerfully, offered Major Sanford his
hand with apparent cordiality, and told us pleasantly
that he hoped he should not be considered as an intruder.
“By no means, sir,” said Major Sanford;
“it is I who have incurred that imputation.
I called this afternoon to pay you my respects, when,
being informed that you and your lady were abroad,
and that Miss Wharton was in the garden, I took the
liberty to invade her retirement. She has graciously
forgiven my crime, and I was just affixing the seal
to my pardon as you entered.”
We then returned into the house. Mrs. Richman
received us politely. During tea, the conversation
turned on literary subjects, in which I cannot say
that the major bore a very distinguished part.
After he was gone, Mrs. Richman said, “I hope
you have been agreeably entertained, Miss Wharton.”
“I did not choose my company, madam,” said
I. “Nor,” said she, “did you
refuse it, I presume.” “Would you
not have me respect the rights of hospitality towards
your guests when you are absent, madam?” “If
you had acted from that motive, I own my obligations
to you, my dear; but even that consideration can hardly
reconcile me to the sacrifice of time which you have
made to the amusement of a seducer.” “I
hope, madam, you do not think me an object of seduction.”
“I do not think you seducible; nor was Richardson’s
Clarissa till she made herself the victim by her own
indiscretion. Pardon me, Eliza—this
is a second Lovelace. I am alarmed by his artful