I do assure you, madam, that I know not his heart, if he has at present any thoughts of marriage.

She seemed pleased at this assurance.

I repeated my wishes, that she would take to herself the merit of allowing Mr. Beauchamp to return to his native country:  and that she would let me see her hand in Sir Harry’s, before I left them.

And pray, sir, as to his place of residence, were he to come:  do you think he should live under the same roof with me?

You shall govern that point, madam, as you approve or disapprove of his behaviour to you.

His behaviour to me, sir!—­One house cannot, shall not, hold him and me.

I think, madam, that you should direct in this article.  I hope, after a little while, so to order my affairs, as constantly to reside in England.  I should think myself very happy if I could prevail upon Mr. Beauchamp to live with me.

But I must see him, I suppose?

Not, madam, unless you shall think it right, for the sake of the world’s opinion, that you should.

I can’t consent—­

You can, madam!  You do!—­I cannot allow Lady Beauchamp to be one of those women, who having insisted upon a wrong point, can be convinced, yet not know how to recede with a grace.—­Be so kind to yourself, as to let Sir Harry know, that you think it right for Mr. Beauchamp to return; but that it must be upon your own conditions:  then, madam, make those conditions generous ones; and how will Sir Harry adore you!  How will Mr. Beauchamp revere you!  How shall I esteem you!

What a strange impertinent have I before me!

I love to be called names by a lady.  If undeservedly, she lays herself by them under obligation to me, which she cannot be generous if she resolves not to repay.  Shall I endeavour to find out Sir Harry?  Or will you, madam?

Was you ever, Sir Charles Grandison, denied by any woman to whom you sued for favour?

I think, madam, I hardly ever was:  but it was because I never sued for a favour, that it was not for a lady’s honour to grant.  This is the case now; and this makes me determine, that I will not be denied the grant of my present request.  Come, come, madam!  How can a woman of your ladyship’s good sense (taking her hand, and leading her to the door) seem to want to be persuaded to do a thing she knows in her heart to be right!  Let us find Sir Harry.

Strange man!—­Unhand me—­He has used me unkindly—­

Overcome him then by your generosity.  But, dear Lady Beauchamp, taking both her hands, and smiling confidently in her face, [I could, my dear Dr. Bartlett, do so to Lady Beauchamp,] will you make me believe, that a woman of your spirit (you have a charming spirit, Lady Beauchamp) did not give Sir Harry as much reason to complain, as he gave you?—­I am sure by his disturbed countenance—­

Now, Sir Charles Grandison, you are downright affronting.  Unhand me!