makes their words generally fall short of their sentiments, and passion,
when once thoroughly imbibed, is as hard to be escaped from as it was
difficultly acquired. I felt no passion, and endeavoured not to feel any,
for Risberg, till circumstances should make it proper and discreet. My
attachment was to his interest, his happiness, and not to his person, and
to convince him of this was extremely difficult. To persuade him that his
freedom was absolute and entire, that no tie of honour or compassion bound
him to me, but that, on the contrary, to dispose of his affections
elsewhere would probably be most conducive to the interests of both.

These cautious proceedings were extremely unpleasing to my cousin, who
pretended to be deeply mortified at any thing betokening indifference, and
terribly alarmed at the possibility of losing me. On the whole, I confess
to you, that I thought my cousin and I were destined for each other, and
felt myself, if I may so speak, not in love with him, but prepared, at the
bidding of discretion, to love him.

My brother's report, therefore, greatly distressed me. Should my cousin
prove a reprobate, no power on earth should compel me to be his. If his
character should prove blameless, and my heart raise no obstacles, at a
proper time I should act with absolute independence of my brother's
inclinations. The menace that while he had voice or arm he would hinder my
choice of Risberg made the less impression as it related to an event
necessarily distant, and which probably might never happen.

The next letter from Risberg put an end to all further intercourse
between us. It informed us of his being on the eve of marriage into an
opulent family. It expressed much indignation at the calumny which had
prevailed with my father to withdraw his protection; declared that he
deemed himself by no means equitably or respectfully treated by him;