I would be thought decently free, madam; but not impertinent.  I see with pleasure a returning smile.  O that ladies knew how much smiles become their features!—­Very few causes can justify a woman’s anger—­Your sex, madam, was given to delight, not to torment us.

Torment you, sir!—­Pray, has Sir Harry—­

Sir Harry cannot look pleased, when his lady is dis-pleased:  I saw that you were, madam, the moment I beheld you.  I hope I am not an unwelcome visitor to Sir Harry for one hour, (I intend to stay no longer,) that he received me with so disturbed a countenance, and has now withdrawn himself, as if to avoid me.

To tell you the truth, Sir Harry and I have had a dispute:  but he always speaks of Sir Charles Grandison with pleasure.

Is he not offended with me, madam, for the contents of the letter—­

No, sir, and I suppose you hardly think he is—­But I am—­

Dear madam, let me beg your interest in favour of the contents of it.

She took fire—­rose up—­

I besought her patience—­Why should you wish to keep abroad a young man, who is a credit to his family, and who ought to be, if he is not, the joy of his father?  Let him owe to your generosity, madam, that recall, which he solicits:  it will become your character:  he cannot be always kept abroad:  be it your own generous work—­

What, sir—­Pray, sir—­With an angry brow—–­

You must not be angry with me, madam—­(I took her hand)—­You can’t be angry in earnest—­

Sir Charles Grandison—­You are—­She withdrew her hand; You are, repeated she—­and seemed ready to call names—­

I am the Grandison you call me; and I honour the maternal character.  You must permit me to honour you, madam.

I wonder, sir—­

I will not be denied.  The world reports misunderstandings between you and Mr. Beauchamp.  That busy world that will be meddling, knows your power, and his dependence.  You must not let it charge you with an ill use of that power:  if you do, you will have its blame, when you might have its praise:  he will have its pity.

What, sir, do you think your fine letters, and smooth words, will avail in favour of a young fellow who has treated me with disrespect?

You are misinformed, madam.—­I am willing to have a greater dependence upon your justice, upon your good-nature, than upon any thing I can urge either by letter or speech.  Don’t let it be said, that you are not to be prevailed on—­A woman not to be prevailed on to join in an act of justice, of kindness; for the honour of the sex, let it not be said.

Honour of the sex, sir!—­Fine talking!—­Don’t I know, that were I to consent to his coming over, the first thing would be to have his annuity augmented out of my fortune?  He and his father would be in a party against me.  Am I not already a sufferer through him in his father’s love?—­You don’t know, sir, what has passed between Sir Harry and me within this half-hour—­But don’t talk to me:  I won’t hear of it:  the young man hates me:  I hate him; and ever will.