Your ladyship does me too much honour, was all I could just then reply.

I must have an answer, my dear:  I will not take up with a compliment.

This, then, madam, is my answer—­I hope I am an honest creature:  I have not a heart to give.

Then you have expectations, my dear.—­Well, I will call you mine, if I can.  Never did I think that I could have made the proposal, that I am going to make you:  but in my eyes, as well as in my lord’s, you are an incomparable young woman.—­This is it.—­We will not think of the alliance proposed to us (it is yet but a proposal, and to which we have not returned any answer) till we see what turn the affair Sir Charles is gone upon, takes.  You once said, you could prefer my son to any of the men that had hitherto applied to you for your favour.  Your affections to Sir Charles were engaged before you knew us.  Will you allow my son this preference, which will be the first preference, if Sir Charles engages himself abroad?

Your ladyship surprises me:  shall I not improve by the example you have just now set before me?  Who was it that said (and a man too) ’With what face could I look up to a woman of honour and delicacy, such a one as the lady before whom I now stand, if I could own a wish, that, while’ my heart leaned to one person, I should think of keeping another in suspense till I saw whether I could or could not be the other’s?  ’No, madam, I would sooner die,’ as Sir Charles said, ’than offer such an indignity to both.’  But I know, madam, that you only made this proposal, as you did another to Sir Charles Grandison, as a trial of my heart.

Upon my word, my dear, I should, I think, be glad to be entitled to such an excuse:  but I was really in earnest; and now take a little shame to myself.

What charming ingenuousness in this lady!

She clasped her arms about me, and kissed my cheek again.  I have but one plea, said she, to make for myself; I could not have fallen into such an error, (the example so recently given to the contrary,) had I not wished you to be, before any woman in the world, Countess of D——.  Noble creature!  No title can give you dignity.  May your own wishes be granted!

My cousin’s eyes ran over with pleasure.

The countess asked, When I returned to Northamptonshire?  I told her my intention.  She charged me to see her first.  But can tell you, said she, my lord shall not be present when you come:  not once more will I trust him in your company; and if he should steal a visit, unknown to me, let not your cousin see him, Mrs. Reeves.  He does indeed admire you, love.

I acknowledged, with a grateful heart, her goodness to me.  She engaged me to correspond with her when I got home.  Her commands were an honour done me, that I could not refuse myself.  Her son, she smilingly told me, should no more see my letters, than my person.