He clasped me in his arms with an ardor that displeased me not on reflection But at the time startled me. He then thanked me again on one knee. I held out the hand he held not in his, with intent to raise him; for I could not speak. He received it as a token of favour; kissed it with ardor; arose; again pressed my cheek with his lips. I was too much sur-prised to repulse him with anger: But was he not too free? Am I a prude, my dear? In the odious sense of the abused word, I am sure I am not: but in the best sense, as derived from prudence, and used in opposition to a word that denotes a worse character, I ov/n myself one of those who would wish to restore it to its natural respectable signification, for the sake of virtue; which, as Sir Charles himself once hin’-ed*, is in danger of suffering by tlie abuse of it; as reli-gion once did, by that of the word jncritan.

Sir Charles, on my making towards the door that led to the stairs, withdrew with such a grace, asr shewed he was capable ot” recollection.

Again I ask, Was he not too free? I will tell you how I judge that he was: When I came to conclude my narrative to my aunt and Lucy, of all that passed between him and me, I blushed, and could not tell them how free he was. Yet you see, ladies, that I can write it to you two.

Sir Charles, my uncle, and Mr. Deanc, took a little walk, and returned just as dinner was ready. My uncle took me aside, and whispered to me; I am glad at my heart and soul the ice is broken. This i.s the man of true spirit Ads-heart, Harriet, you will be Lady Grandison in a fortnight, at furthest, I hope. You have had a charming confulndation, I doubt not. I can guess you have, by Sir Charles’s declaringhimself more and more delighted with you. And he owns, that he put the question to you. Hay, Harriet! smiling in my face.

Every one’s eyes were upon me. Sir Charles, I believe, saw me look as if I were apprehensive of my uncle’s raillery. He came up to us: My dear Miss liyron, said he, in my uncle’s hearing, I have own-ed to Mr. Selby, the request I presumed to make you. I am afraid that he, as well as you, think me too bold and forward. If, madam, you do, I ask your pardon: my hopes shall always be controuled by your pleasure.

‘ This made my uncle complaisant to me. I was re-assured. I was pleased to be so seasonably re-lieved.

Friday morniiij;, October 20.

You must not, my dear ladies, expect me to be so very minute: if I am, nmst I not lose a hundred charming conversations? One, however, I will give you a little particularly. p