Miss Jennings had both virtue and pride, and the proposals of the duke were consistent with neither the one nor the other.  Although from her great vivacity one might suppose that she was not capable of much reflection, yet she had furnished herself with some very salutary maxims for the conduct of a young person of her age.  The first was, that a lady ought to be young to enter the court with advantage, and not old to leave it with a good grace:  that she could not maintain herself there but by a glorious resistance, or by illustrious foibles and that, in so dangerous a situation, she ought to use her utmost endeavours not to dispose of her heart until she gave her hand.

Entertaining such sentiments, she had far less trouble to resist the duke’s temptations, than to disengage herself from his perseverance:  she was deaf to all treaties for a settlement, with which her ambition was sounded:  and all offers of presents succeeded still worse.  What was then to be done to conquer an extravagant virtue that would not hearken to reason?  He was ashamed to suffer a giddy young girl to escape, whose inclinations ought in some manner to correspond with the vivacity that shone forth in all her actions, and who nevertheless thought proper to be serious when no such thing as seriousness was required of her.

After he had attentively considered her obstinate behaviour, he thought that writing might perhaps succeed, though ogling, speeches, and embassies had failed.  Paper receives everything, but it unfortunately happened that she would not receive the paper.  Every day billets, containing the tenderest expressions, and most magnificent promises, were slipped into her pockets, or into her muff:  this, however, could not be done unperceived; and the malicious little gipsy took care that those who saw them slip in, should likewise see them fall out, unperused and unopened; she only shook her muff, or pulled out her handkerchief; as soon as ever his back was turned, his billets fell about her like hail-stones, and whoever pleased might take them up.  The duchess was frequently a witness of this conduct, but could not find in her heart to chide her for her want of respect to the duke.  After this, the charms and prudence of Miss Jennings were the only subjects of conversation in the two courts:  the courtiers could not comprehend how a young creature, brought directly from the country to court, should so soon become its ornament by her attractions, and its example by her conduct.

The king was of opinion that those who had attacked her had ill-concerted their measures; for he thought it unnatural that she should neither be tempted by promises, nor gained by importunity:  she, especially, who in all probability had not imbibed such severe precepts from the prudence of her mother, who had never tasted any thing more delicious than the plums and apricots of Saint Albans.  Being resolved to try her himself, he was particularly pleased with