over you than I have. Whom shall I call in to aid me in this arduous
task?"

"Nay, dear madam, if I can resist your entreaties, surely no other can
hope to succeed."

"I am not sure of that," said my friend, archly; "there is one person in
the world whose supplications, I greatly suspect, you would not
withstand."

"Whom do you mean?" said I, in some trepidation.

"You will know presently. Unless I can prevail upon you, I shall be
obliged to call for assistance."

"Spare me the pain of repeating that no power on earth can change my
resolution."

"That's a fib," she rejoined, with increased archness. "You know it is.
If a certain person entreat you to stay, you will easily comply. I see I
cannot hope to prevail by my own strength. That is a mortifying
consideration: but we must not part; that is a point settled. If nothing
else will do, I must go and fetch my advocate. Stay here a moment."

I had scarcely time to breathe, before she returned, leading in Clarice.
I did not yet comprehend the meaning of this ceremony. The lady was
overwhelmed with sweet confusion. Averted eyes and reluctant steps might
have explained to me the purpose of this meeting, if I had believed that
purpose to be possible. I felt the necessity of new fortitude, and
struggled to recollect the motives that had hitherto sustained me.