Somthing lies at my heart.—­Yet I think I could not sleep in quiet, was I to drop a hint in disfavour of Mr. Jenkings;—­it may not be in his disfavour neither:—­However, my dear Lady, you shall be the judge, after I have repos’d a few hours.

Seven o’clock in the morning.

Why should I blame Mr. Jenkings?—­Is not Edmund his only son?—­his only child?—­Is he less my friend for suspecting?—­Yes, my Lady, I perceive he does suspect.—­He is uneasy.—­He supposes his son encouraging an improper affection.—­I see it in his very looks:—­he must think me an artful creature.—­This it is that distresses me.—­I wish I could hit on a method to set his heart at rest.—­If I barely hint a design of leaving the neighbourhood, which I have done once or twice, he bursts into tears, and I am oblig’d to sooth him like a child.

How account for this behaviour?—­Why does he look on me with the eye of fatherly affection,—­yet think me capable of a meanness I despise?

I believe it impossible for a human being to have more good nature, or more good qualities, than Edmund; yet had he the riches of a Mogul, I could never think of a connection with him.—­He, worthy young man, has never given his father cause for suspicion.—­I am convinced he has not.—­Naturally of an obliging disposition, he is ever on the watch for opportunities to gratify his amiable inclinations:—­not one such selfish motive as love to push him on.

A summons to breakfast.—­Lord Darcey, it seems, is below;—­I suppose, slid away from his friends to call on Edmund.—­Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings are all smiles, all good humour, to their son,—­I hope it is only I who have been suspicious.—­Lord Darcey is still with Edmund.—­They are at this moment under my window,—­counselling perhaps, about a commission he wants his father to purchase for him in the Guards.—­I should be glad to see this matter accommodated;—­yet, I could wish, in so tender a point, his Lordship may not be too forward in advising.—­Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings have such an opinion of him,—­they pay such deference to what he says,—­his advice must have weight;—­and they may be unhappy by giving up their inclinations.

The praises of Lord Darcey are forever sounding in my ears.—­To what a height would the partiality of Mrs. Jenkings lift me?—­She would have me think,—­I cannot tell your Ladyship what she would have me think.—­My hopes dare not take such a flight.—­No!—­I can perceive what their fall must be;—­I can perceive it, without getting on the top of the precipice to look down.

I shall order every thing for my departure, according to your Ladyship’s directions, holding myself in readiness to attend Mr. and Mrs. Smith, at the time proposed.

Oxfordshire I must revisit,—­for a few days only;—­having some little matters to regulate.