ideas I have cherished in my heart, and in my brain; and I never found
any thing to realise them on earth till I met with thee, my love! While
thou didst seem sensible of my kindness, I was but too happy: but now
thou hast cruelly cast me off.

S. You have no reason to say so: you are the same to me as ever.

H. That is, nothing. You are to me everything, and I am nothing to
you. Is it not too true?

S. No.

H. Then kiss me, my sweetest. Oh! could you see your face now--your
mouth full of suppressed sensibility, your downcast eyes, the soft blush
upon that cheek, you would not say the picture is not like because it is
too handsome, or because you want complexion. Thou art heavenly-fair,
my love--like her from whom the picture was taken--the idol of the
painter's heart, as thou art of mine! Shall I make a drawing of it,
altering the dress a little, to shew you how like it is?

S. As you please.--



THE INVITATION