me. 66 madam," answered he, "it is mercy, and not justice, which I implore at your hands. Justice I know must condemn Yet not for the letter I sent to Lady Bellaston. Of that I most solemnly declare you have had a true account." He then insisted much on the security given him by Nightingale of a fair pretence for breaking off, if, contrary to their expectations, her ladyship should have accepted his offer; but confessed that he had been guilty of a great indiscretion to put such a letter as that into her power, which,” said he, "I have dearly paid for, in the effect it has upon you." "I do not, I cannot," says she, "believe otherwise of that letter than you would have me. My con duct, I think, shows you clearly I do not believe there is much in that. And yet, Mr. Jones, have I not enough to resent? After what passed at Upton, so soon to engage in a new amour with another woman, while I fancied, and you pretended, your heart was bleeding for me? Indeed, you have acted strangely. Can I believe the passion you have professed to me to be sincere? Or, if I can, what happiness can I assure myself of with a man capable of so much inconstancy?" "O! my Sophia," cries he, "do not doubt the sincerity of the purest passion that ever inflamed a human breast. Think, most adorable creature, of my unhappy situation, of my despair. Could I, my Sophia, have flattered myself with the most distant hopes of being ever permitted to throw myself at your feet in the manner I do now, it would not have been in the power of any other woman to have inspired a thought which the severest chastity could have condemned. Inconstancy to you! O Sophia! if you can have goodness enough to pardon what is past, do not let any cruel future apprehensions shut your mercy against me. No repentance was ever more sincere. let it reconcile me to my heaven in this dear bosom." "Sincere repentance, Mr. Jones," answered she, "wil obtain the pardon of a sinner, but it is from One who is a O! perfect judge of that sincerity. A human mind may be imposed on; nor is there any infallible method to prevent it. You must expect, however, that if I can be prevailed on by your repentance to pardon you, I will at least insist on the strongest proof of its sincerity." "O! name any 66 proof in my power," answered Jones eagerly. "Time," replied she;" time alone, Mr. Jones, can convince me that you are a true penitent, and have resolved to abandon these vicious courses, which I should detest you for, if I imagined you capable of persevering in them.” Do not imagine it," cries Jones. "On my knees I entreat, I implore your confidence, a confidence which it shall be the business of my life to deserve." "Let it then," said she, "be the business of some part of your life to show me you deserve it. I think I have been explicit enough in assuring you that, when I see you merit my confidence, you will obtain it. After what is past, sir, can you expect I should take you upon your word ?"’ 66 upon my word; I have constancy, which it is "What is that?" said show you, my charm He replied, “Don't believe me a better security, a pledge for my impossible to see and to doubt." Sophia, a little surprised. "I will ing angel,” cried Jones, seizing her hand and carrying her to the glass. There, behold it there in that lovely figure, in that face, that shape, those eyes, that mind which shines through these eyes; can the man who shall be in possession of these be inconstant? Impossible! my Sophia; they would fix a Dorimant, a Lord Rochester. You could not doubt it, if you could see yourself with any eyes but your own." Sophia blushed and half smiled; but, forcing again her brow into a frown-"If I am to judge," said she, "of the future by the past, my image will no more remain in your heart when I am out of your sight, than it will in this glass when I am out of the room." "By heaven, by all that is sacred!" said Jones, "I will never "it never was out of my heart. The delicacy of your sex cannot conceive the grossness of ours, nor how little one sort of amour has to do with the heart." marry a man," replied Sophia, very gravely, "who shall not learn refinement enough to be as incapable as I am myself of making such a distinction." "I will learn it," said Jones. "I have learnt it already. The first moment of hope that my Sophia might be my wife taught it me at once; and all the rest of her sex from that moment became as little the objects of desire to my sense as of passion to my heart." "Well," said Sophia, "the proof of this must be from time. Your situation, Mr. Jones, is now altered, and I assure you I have great satisfaction in the alteration. You will now want no opportunity of being near me, and convincing me that your mind is altered too." "O! my angel," cries Jones, "how shall I thank thy goodness! And are you so good to own that you have a satisfaction in my prosperity? Believe me, believe me, madam, it is you alone have given a relish to that prosperity, since I owe to it the dear hope-O ! my Sophia, let it not be a distant one. I will be all obedience to your commands. I will not dare to press anything further than you permit me. Yet let me entreat you to appoint a short trial. O tell me when I may expect you will be convinced of what is most solemnly true." "When I have gone voluntarily thus far, Mr. Jones," said she, "I expect not to be pressed. Nay, I will not.' "O! don't look unkindly thus, my Sophia," cries he. "I do not, I dare not press you. Yet permit me at least once more to beg you would fix the period. O! consider the impatience of love." "A twelvemonth, perhaps," said she. "O! my Sophia," cries he, "you have named an eternity." haps it may be something sooner," says she; "I will not be teased. If your passion for me be what I would have it, I think you may now be easy." "Easy! Sophia, call "Per not such an exulting happiness as mine by so cold a name. O transporting thought! am I not assured that the blessed day will come, when I shall call you mine; when fears shall be no more; when I shall have that dear, that vast, that exquisite, ecstatic delight of making my Sophia happy?" "Indeed, sir," said she, "that day is in your own power. "O! my dear, my divine angel,” cried he, "these words have made me mad with joy. But I must, I will thank those dear lips which have so sweetly pronounced my bliss." bliss." He then caught her in his arms, and kissed her with an ardor he had never ventured before. At this instant Western, who had stood some time listening, burst into the room, and, with his hunting voice and phrase, cried out, "To her, boy, to her, go to her. That's it, little honeys, O that's it! Well! what, is it all over? Hath she appointed the day, boy? What, shall it be to-morrow or next day? It shan't be put off a minute longer than next day, I am resolved." “Let me beseech you, sir," says Jones, "don't let me be the occasion-"" "Beseech mine a-," " cries Western, "I thought thou hadst been a lad of higher mettle than to give way to a parcel of maidenish tricks. I tell thee 'tis all flimflam. Zoodikers! she'd have the wedding to-night with all her heart. Would'st not, Sophy? Come, confess, and be an honest girl for once. What, art dumb? Why dost not speak?" "Why should I confess, sir," says Sophia, "since it seems you are so well acquainted with my thoughts?" "That's a good girl," cries he, "and dost consent then?" "No, indeed, sir," says Sophia, "I have given no such consent." "And wunt not ha un then to-morrow, nor next day?" says Western. "Indeed, sir," says she, "I have no such intention." "But I can tell thee," replied he, "why hast nut; only because thou dost love to be disobedient, and to plague and vex thy father." "Pray, sir," said Jones, interfering. |