Perhaps you will be surprised to find me still guilty of
procrastination, and to hear me describing French manners, instead of
the mode in which I addressed a youth whom I have accused myself of
having, in a certain sense, misled, and kept in suspense. I can only
answer that my intentions have been frustrated; chiefly indeed by this
country excursion, though in part by other accidents. My mind has not
indulged itself in indolence; it could not; it is too deeply
interested. But, the more I have thought, the more have I been
confirmed in my former opinion. This is the hour of trial: this is the
time to prove I have some real claims to that superiority which I have
been so ready to flatter myself I possess. Were there nothing to
regret, nay were there not something to suffer, where would be the
merit of victory?--But, on the other hand, how much is there to
gain!--A mind of the first order to be retrieved!--A Clifton!--A
brother of Louisa!

This appears to be a serious crisis. Again I must repeat how much I am
afraid of being hurried forward too fast. An error at this moment might
be fatal. Clifton is so much alarmed by the particular respect which
the Count de Beaunoir [A pleasant kind of madman, who is a visitant
here.] pays me, that he has this instant been with me, confessed a
passion for me, in all the strong and perhaps extravagant language
which custom has seemed to authorise, and has entreated, with a degree
of warmth and earnestness that could scarcely be resisted, my
permission to mention the matter immediately to Sir Arthur.

It became me to speak without disguise. I told him I was far from
insensible of his merits; that a union with the brother of my Louisa,
if propriety, duty, and affection should happen to combine, would be
the first wish of my heart; that I should consider any affectation and