She stopt with an air of attention, as if she wished me to proceed.

And when your honoured and beloved friends shall see their Clementina happy, as I am determined she shall be, if all the tenderness of affection I am able to shew, can make her so, how happy will they all be! Your chapel, madam! Your confessor! Your own servants!

Ah, Sir! Sir! Ought I to listen to such temptations, after what I have given you, upon delibera — tion, in writing? Good Heaven, and the whole heavenly host, direct me!

She had recourse to her beads; and her lips, as a word now-and-then half-pronounced informed me, moved to a pater-noster. Again she assumed an attentive air.

My sisters, madam, will revere you. You will have pleasure in calling them yours. Their lords are men of the first figure in their country. I ask noi for fortune. I ask only for you, and you I ask of yourself. My estate is considerable, and improving. The pride I take in being independent, and in the power of obliging, suffers me not to be imprudent with regard to oeconomy. My capital mansion (I value it for not being a house of yesterday) though not so magnificent as your palace in Bologna, is genteel, spacious, convenient. The paper you gave me, shews me that the grandeur of your soul is equal to that of your birth. I revere you for the pious and noble sentiments contained in it. What obligations will you lay me under to your goodness, if you can prevail upon yourself to rely upon my assurances, that I will never seek to make you unhappy on a religious account; and if you can be satisfied with the enjoyment of your own religion, and leave to nie the exercise of mine! Dear madam, why may not this be? Why will you not leave me as free as 1 am ready to leave you? Justice, generosity, are my pleas to a lady, who surely cannot but be just and generous. Think, madam; dear Lady Clementina, think; if you cannot, by making me happy, be yourself so.

I took her unresisting hand, and kissed it. She sighed. She wept. She was silent.

With what pleasure, proceeded I, will you every other year visit and revisit England, and your native country! How dear will you be to your old friends, and to your new, in turn! Never revisiting England without some of your relations to accompany you; now one, now another; and who will be of our fa-mily. Your Grandison, madam, allow me to say your Grandison, has not, he presumes to aver, a narrow heart. You see, how well he can live with the most zealous of your religion, yet not be an hypocrite; but when called upon, fears not to avow his own My dearest Clementina! [again I pressed her hand with my lips] say, you think you can be happy, and yet bless me with your love.