knowledge unsuitable to her station, the consequence was often ruin.
It is almost incredible--I was silent!--but when I reached home I
was overcome with shame and despair. This then was all that my love
was worth; this was my esteem for intelligence and learning; and I
was the man who had thanked God I was not as my neighbours at A.!
If in the beginning I had deliberately resolved that it would be a
mistake to ally myself with Melissa's family because my usefulness
might be diminished, something might have been pleaded on my behalf,
but I was without excuse. I had sacrificed Melissa to no principle,
but to detestable vulgar cowardice. It was about two hours after
noon when I returned, and in my confusion a note from Melissa which
lay upon my table was not at once noticed. It had been written the
day before, and it tenderly upbraided me because I had been absent
for a whole week. Enclosed was a copy of verses by Sir Philip
Sidney beginning, 'My true love hath my heart.' I mounted my horse
again, and in less than half an hour was in B. I flew to Melissa.
She received me in silence, but without rebuke. Indeed, before she
had time for a word, I had knelt at her feet and had covered my face
with her hands. On my way through the town I had seen my lady with
her children, and one or two fashionably-dressed women, friends who
lived in B. My lady was completing her purchases. I implored
Melissa immediately to come out with me. She was astonished and
hesitated, but my impetuosity was so urgent that she feared to
refuse, and without any explanation I almost dragged her into the
street. On the opposite side I descried my lady and her party. I
crossed over, took Melissa's arm in mine, came close to them face to
face, bowed, and then passed on. We then recrossed the road and
turned into Melissa's house. I looked back and saw that they were
standing still, stricken with astonishment. We went into the little
parlour: nobody was there. Melissa threw her arms round my neck,