threw herself upon my confidence, I was really obliged to
disentangle myself from her dear arms, ere I once pressed her to my
bosom, or gave her a single kiss, while I stammered out, "I pray
you, now, sweet Angiola, do not embrace me ever again; it is not
quite proper." She fixed her eyes upon me for a moment, then cast
them down, while a blush suffused her ingenuous countenance; and I
am sure it was the first time that she read in my mind even the
possibility of any weakness of mine in reference to her. Still she
did not cease to continue her visits upon the same friendly footing,
with a little mere reserve and respect, such as I wished it to be;
and I was grateful to her for it.



CHAPTER XXXI.



I am unable to form an estimate of the evils which afflict others;
but, as respects myself, I am bound to confess that, after close
examination, I found that no sufferings had been appointed me,
except to some wise end, and for my own advantage. It was thus even
with the excessive heat which oppressed, and the gnats which
tormented me. Often have I reflected that but for this continual
suffering I might not have successfully resisted the temptation of
falling in love, situated as I was, and with one whose extremely
affectionate and ardent feelings would have made it difficult always
to preserve it within respectful limits. If I had sometimes reason
to tremble, how should I have been enabled to regulate my vain
imagination in an atmosphere somewhat inspiring, and open to the