I wonder whether Sir Charles writes to Dr. Bartlett an account of what passes here. If he does, what would I give to see his letters! and, particularly, what he thinks of the little delays he meets with! But do, dear Lady G. acquit me of affectation and parade. Indeed it is not that. I hope he himself acquits me, and censures himself! for, upon my word, he is unreasonably hasty.

I could not but express a little curiosity about his hint of Lady Olivia’s favourable opinion of me, though not at the time; and he was so good as to shew me, and my grandmamma and aunt, a most extraordinary character which she gave me in a long letter*. I,?rnu it was a long letter: I was very Eve-UIi, my dear. Lucy said after wards, that I did so leer at it: an ugly word, im])ort,ing slinesx; and, after I was angry at myself for giving her the idea that put her upon applying i.t, I chid her for using it.

Lady Olivia writes such liigli tailings, my dear! I blushed I did not, could not, deg-erve them, I always pitied her, you know; but now you cannot imagine how much more than ever I pity her. Do all of us, indeed, as the men s;iy, love flattery? I did not think I did I shall find out all the obliquities of my heart, in time. I was supposed once to be so ^ooda creature as if none other were half so good! Ah, my partial friends! you studied your Harriet in the dark; but here comes the sun darting into all the crooked and obscure corners of my heart; and I shrink from his dazzling eye; and, compared to him (and Clementina, let me add) appear to myself iwc/i a nothing

Nay. I have had the mortification, once or twice, to think myself less than the very Olivia, upon whom, but lately, secure of my tnind’s superiority to her mind, I looked down with a kind of proud compcission: And whence this exaltation of Olivia, and self-humiliation? Why, from her magnifying beyond measure the poor Harriet, and yielding up her own hopes, entreating him, as she does, to address me; and that with such honourable distinction, as if my acceptance of him were doubtful, and i; conde-scension.

I wish I could procure you a copy of what your brother read to me Ah, my dear! it is very soothing to mv pride! But what is ihcj’oundnlion of that pride? is it not my ambition to be thought worthily of by the best of men? And does not praise stimulate me to resolve to de^wrve praise? I will endeavour to deserve it. But, my dear, this Olivia, a fine figure herself, and loving in spite of discouragement, can praise, to the object of her love, the pcr.soit, and still more, the mind, of her rival? Is not that great in Olivia? Could I be so great, if I thought myself in danger from her!