Forgive yourself, my dear father; I do most hear-tily forgive you.

I led him down to Jeronymo’s chamber, begging of him not to say a syllable more of this matter; and not to let me suffer in his esteem by this accident.

I have more than once, Dr. Bartlett, experienced the irreconcileable enmity of a man, whom I have forgiven for a meanness; and who was less able to forgive me my forgiveness, than I was him his fault. But Father Marescotti cannot be such a man. He is capable of generous shame. He could hardly hold up his head all the time I staid.

I related to the family, in the presence of the father, the substance of what passed between the lady and me. They seemed surprised at her sted-fastness. The bishop told me, that he had dispatched a messenger post to the general, with a letter, in which he had written a faithful account of their present situation. He would shew me a copy of it, if I pleased. I was sure, I said, I could depend upon his generosity and honour and should be glad to know the sentiments of the general and his lady upon it, when they returned an answer.

I promised to attend them in the morning: and going to my lodgings, found there, waiting for me, the Count of Belvedere. Saunders and his gentle-man were both together below-stairs, waiting for, yet dreading, as they said, my return. Saunders had told the count, it was uncertain: but he declared that he would wait for me, were it ever so late. They both besought me to take care of my own safety. His gentleman told me, that his master had been very much disturbed in his mind ever since he was with me last; declaring often, that his life was a burden to him. He believed, he said, he had a brace of pistols with him: and then again expressed his care for my safety, as well as his lord’s. Fear not, said I: the count is a man of honour: I would not, for the world, hurt him: and I dare say he will not hurt me.

I hastened up. Why, my lord, said I (taking hie unwilling hands, each in mine, for a double reason) did you not let me know you intended me this ho-nour? Or why did not your lordship send for me, as soon as you came?

Send for you! with a melancholy air; What, from your Clementina? No!, But tell me what is concluded upon? My soul is impatient to know. Answer me like a man: answer me like a man of honour.

Nothing, my lord, is concluded upon: nothing can be concluded upon till Lady Clementina’s mind be fully known. li’t/tat be all the obstacle