I did this with all possible precaution, and with every softening friendship and politeness could suggest; she was shocked at my confession, but soon recovered herself enough to tell me she was highly flattered by this proof of my confidence and esteem; that she believed me a man to have only the more respect for a woman who by owning her partiality had told me she considered me not only as the most amiable, but the most noble of my sex; that she had heard, no love was so tender as that which was the child of friendship; but that of this she was convinced, that no friendship was so tender as that which was the child of love; that she offered me this tender, this lively friendship, and would for the future find her happiness in the consideration of mine.

Do you know, my dear, that, since this confession, I feel a kind of tenderness for her, to which I cannot give a name?  It is not love; for I love, I idolize another:  but it is softer and more pleasing, as well as more animated, than friendship.

You cannot conceive what pleasure I find in her conversation; she has an admirable understanding, a feeling heart, and a mixture of softness and spirit in her manner, which is peculiarly pleasing to men.  My Emily will love her; I must bring them acquainted:  she promises to come to Quebec in May; I shall be happy to shew her every attention when there.

I have seen the lands, and am pleased with them:  I believe this will be my residence, if Emily, as I cannot avoid hoping, will make me happy; I shall declare myself as soon as I return, but must continue here a few days longer:  I shall not be less pleased with this situation for its being so near Madame Des Roches, in whom Emily will find a friend worthy of her esteem, and an entertaining lively companion.

    Adieu, my dear Lucy! 
        Your affectionate
          Ed. Rivers.

I have fixed on the loveliest spot on earth, on which to build a house for my mother:  do I not expect too much in fancying she will follow me hither?

LETTER 86.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, March 13.

Still with Madame Des Roches; appearances are rather against him, you must own, Lucy:  but I will not say all I think to you.  Poor Emily! we dispute continually, for she will persist in defending his conduct; she says, he has a right to marry whoever he pleases; that her loving him is no tie upon his honor, especially as he does not even know of this preference; that she ought only to blame the weakness of her own heart, which has betrayed her into a false belief that their tenderness was mutual:  this is pretty talking, but he has done every thing to convince her of his feeling the strongest passion for her, except making a formal declaration.

She talks of returning to England the moment the river is open:  indeed, if your brother marries, it is the only step left her to take.  I almost wish now she had married Sir George:  she would have had all the douceurs of marriage; and as to love, I begin to think men incapable of feeling it:  some of them can indeed talk well on the subject; but self-interest and vanity are the real passions of their souls.  I detest the whole sex.