she had long been entirely ashamed of.

The beauteous spirit, perceiving her question gave offense,
pursued it no farther. She had indeed all the sweetness and
good-humor which are so extremely amiable (when found) in that
sex which tenderness most exquisitely becomes. Her countenance
displayed all the cheerfulness, the good-nature, and the modesty,
which diffuse such brightness round the beauty of Seraphina,[5]
awing every beholder with respect, and, at the same time,
ravishing him with admiration. Had it not been indeed for our
conversation on the small-pox, I should have imagined we had been
honored with her identical presence. This opinion might have
been heightened by the good sense she uttered whenever she spoke,
by the delicacy of her sentiments, and the complacence of her
behavior, together with a certain dignity which attended every
look, word, and gesture; qualities which could not fail making an
impression on a heart[6] so capable of receiving it as mine, nor
was she long in raising in me a very violent degree of seraphic
love. I do not intend by this, that sort of love which men are
very properly said to make to women in the lower world, and which
seldom lasts any longer than while it is making. I mean by
seraphic love an extreme delicacy and tenderness of friendship,
of which, my worthy reader, if thou hast no conception, as it is
probable thou mayest not, my endeavor to instruct thee would be
as fruitless as it would be to explain the most difficult
problems of Sir Isaac Newton to one ignorant of vulgar
arithmetic.

[5] A particular lady of quality is meant here; but every lady
of quality, or no quality, are welcome to apply the character to