the continuance of this calm but soul-penetrating conversation.

No, no, Mr. Lovelace: I have said too much. Impatience begins to break
in upon me. If you can excuse me to the ladies, it will be better for
my mind's sake, and for your credit's sake, that I do not see them. Call
me to them over-nice, petulant, prudish--what you please call me to them.
Nobody but Miss Howe, to whom, next to the Almighty, and my own mother, I
wish to stand acquitted of wilful error, shall know the whole of what has
passed. Be happy, as you may!--Deserve to be happy, and happy you will
be, in your own reflection at least, were you to be ever so unhappy in
other respects. For myself, if I ever shall be enabled, on due
reflection, to look back upon my own conduct, without the great reproach
of having wilfully, and against the light of my own judgment, erred, I
shall be more happy than if I had all that the world accounts desirable.

The noble creature proceeded; for I could not speak.

This self-acquittal, when spirits are lent me to dispel the darkness
which at present too often over-clouds my mind, will, I hope, make me
superior to all the calamities that can befal me.

Her whole person was informed by her sentiments. She seemed to be taller
than before. How the God within her exalted her, not only above me, but
above herself!

Divine creature! (as I thought her,) I called her. I acknowledged the
superiority of her mind; and was proceeding--but she interrupted me--All
human excellence, said she, is comparative only. My mind, I believe, is
indeed superior to your's, debased as your's is by evil habits: but I had
not known it to be so, if you had not taken pains to convince me of the