An instance, in point I remember a Miss Hurste; a sweet pretty creature, and very sensible: she had from her chamber-window been shot through the heart by the blind archer, who took his stand on the feather of a military man marching at the head of his company through the market-town in which she lived. Yet was her susceptibility her only inducement; for the man was neither handsome in his person, nor genteel in his appearance: nor could she be in love with the sense of a man, had he been a Solomon, whose mouth she had then never seen opened, and towhose character she was as much a stranger, as he was to hers, or her person, till she contrived to have him made acquainted with his good fortune. Constant, however, to her first foolish impression, she, in opposition to all advice, and the expostulations of a tender and indulgent mother, married him A Solomon he was not. And when he at any time, by virtue of his relation to her, was introduced into her family, how would she blush, whenever he opened his mouth! And how did her eyes sparkle with gratitude upon any one who took the least respectful notice of him! Compliments to herself were unheeded; but she seemed ready to throw herseif at the feet of those who smiled upon, and directed themselves to her captain. Poor girl! she wanted to give credit to the motive by which she had been actuated.

Now, Harriet, 1 charge you, that you think not that this man’s name was Anderson. Somebody met with an escape! Yet now-and-then 1 blush for Somebody. Yet between this Somebody and Miss Hurste’s cases there was this difference A father’s apprehended Tyranny (shall I call it?) impressing the one; a tindery fit the other. In the one a timely recovery: in the other, the first folly deliberately confirmed.

Dear, dear Harriet! let me make you smile! I protest, if you won’t, I will talk of Lord D. and then I know you will frown.

The excellent lady of that name has already been to welcome us to town. She absolutely dotes upon you: so, she says, does the young earl. She prays day and night, she tells me, that my brother may soon come to England, his Italian bride in his hand. She expects every post to hear from Sir Arthur Brandon; who has carried a letter from her, and another from the Earl of N. recommending that promising young gentleman to my brother’s favour, on his visiting Italy. She hopes my brother will not take amiss her freedom, at so short an acquaint-ance. If Sir Arthur sends her such news as she wishes, and we dread, to hear, away drives she to Northamptonshire And should she, 1 don’t know who will scrupli: to wish her success; for her young man rises every day in his character. My dear creature, you must, you shall, be in our row; and Lady D.‘s last letter to you is unanswerable. Forgive me for touching upon this subject: but we have no hopes. You have nothing to fear; since you expect what the next mails will bring. And who of us, after all, have our first love? Aunt Nell would not have descended sola into her greys, nor Cicely Bad-ger neither, if they might have obtained the men of their choice Poor aunt Nell! she has been telling me (her taken-off spectacles in her fingers) of a disappointment of this kind in her youth, with such woeful earnestness, that it made me ready to cry for her. She lays it at the door of her brother, my poor father; and now will you wonder, that, to this hour, she cannot speak of him with patience? Poor aun 1 Nell!