she throw herself upon my mercy, and try me but one fortnight in the life
of honour--What then?--I cannot say, What then--

Do not despise me, Jack, for my inconsistency--in no two letters perhaps
agreeing with myself--Who expects consistency in men of our
character?--But I am mad with love--fired by revenge--puzzled with my own
devices--my invention is my curse--my pride my punishment--drawn five or
six ways at once, can she possibly be so unhappy as I?--O why, why, was
this woman so divinely excellent!--Yet how know I that she is? What have
been her trials? Have I had the courage to make a single one upon her
person, though a thousand upon her temper?--Enow, I hope, to make her
afraid of ever more disobliging me more!--


***


I must banish reflection, or I am a lost man. For these two hours past
have I hated myself for my own contrivances. And this not only from what
I have related to thee; but for what I have further to relate. But I
have now once more steeled my heart. My vengeance is uppermost; for I
have been reperusing some of Miss Howe's virulence. The contempt they
have both held me in I cannot bear.

The happiest breakfast-time, my beloved owned, that she had ever known
since she had left her father's house. [She might have let this alone.]
The Captain renewed all his protestations of service. He would write me
word how his dear friend received the account he should give him of the
happy situation of our affairs, and what he thought of the settlements,
as soon as I should send him the draughts so kindly promised. And we