The dear creature resumed the topic her heart was so firmly fixed upon; and insisted upon quitting the odious house, and that in very high terms.

I urged her to meet me the next day at the altar in either of the two churches mentioned in the license.  And I besought her, whatever was her resolution, to let me debate this matter calmly with her.

If, she said, I would have her give what I desired the least moment’s consideration, I must not hinder her from being her own mistress.  To what purpose did I ask her consent, if she had not a power over either her own person or actions?

Will you give me your honour, Madam, if I consent to your quitting a house so disagreeable to you?—­

My honour, Sir! said the dear creature—­Alas!—­And turned weeping from me with inimitable grace—­as if she had said—­Alas!—­you have robbed me of my honour!

I hoped then, that her angry passions were subsiding; but I was mistaken; for, urging her warmly for the day; and that for the sake of our mutual honour, and the honour of both our families; in this high-flown and high-souled strain she answered me: 

And canst thou, Lovelace, be so mean—­as to wish to make a wife of the creature thou hast insulted, dishonoured, and abused, as thou hast me?  Was it necessary to humble me down to the low level of thy baseness, before I could be a wife meet for thee?  Thou hadst a father, who was a man of honour:  a mother, who deserved a better son.  Thou hast an uncle, who is no dishonour to the Peerage of a kingdom, whose peers are more respectable than the nobility of any other country.  Thou hast other relations also, who may be thy boast, though thou canst not be theirs—­ and canst thou not imagine, that thou hearest them calling upon thee; the dead from their monuments; the living from their laudable pride; not to dishonour thy ancient and splendid house, by entering into wedlock with a creature whom thou hast levelled with the dirt of the street, and classed with the vilest of her sex?

I extolled her greatness of soul, and her virtue.  I execrated myself for my guilt:  and told her, how grateful to the manes of my ancestors, as well as to the wishes of the living, the honour I supplicated for would be.

But still she insisted upon being a free agent; of seeing herself in other lodgings before she would give what I urged the least consideration.  Nor would she promise me favour even then, or to permit my visits.  How then, as I asked her, could I comply, without resolving to lose her for ever?

She put her hand to her forehead often as she talked; and at last, pleading disorder in her head, retired; neither of us satisfied with the other.  But she ten times more dissatisfied with me, than I with her.

Dorcas seems to be coming into favour with her—­

What now!—­What now!

MONDAY NIGHT.