[Yes, Harriet, the man considered; be pleased to take that in:] let us, in pity, relieve her.  She is thought to be frank, open-hearted, communicative; nay, she passes herself upon us in those characters:  she sees we keep nothing from her.  She has been acquainted with your love before wedlock; with my folly, in relation to Anderson:  she has carried her head above a score or two of men not contemptible.  She sits enthroned among us, while we make but common figures at her footstool:  she calls us sisters, friends, and twenty pretty names.  Let us acquaint her, that we see into her heart; and why Lord D——­ and others are so indifferent with her.  If she is ingenuous, let us spare her; if not, leave me to punish her—­Yet we will keep up her punctilio as to our brother; we will leave him to make his own discoveries.  She may confide in his politeness; and the result will be happier for her; because she will then be under no restraint to us, and her native freedom of heart may again take its course.

Agreed, agreed, said Lady L——.  And arm-in-arm, we entered your dressing-room, dismissed the maid, and began the attack—­And, O Harriet! how you hesitated, paraded, fooled on with us, before you came to confession!  Indeed you deserved not the mercy we shewed you—­So, child, you had better to have let this part of your story sleep in peace.

You bid me not tell Emily, that your cousin is in love with her:  but I think I will.  Girls begin very early to look out for admirers.  It is better, in order to stay her stomach, to find out one for her, than that she should find out one for herself; especially when the man is among ourselves, as I may say, and both are in our own management, and at distance from each other.  Emily is a good girl; but she has susceptibilities already:  and though I would not encourage her, as yet, to look out of herself for happiness; yet I would give her consequence with herself, and at the same time let her see, that there could be no mention made of any thing that related to her, but what she should be acquainted with.  Dear girl!  I love her as well as you; and I pity her too:  for she, as well as somebody else, will have difficulties to contend with, which she will not know easily how to get over; though she can, in a flame so young, generously prefer the interest of a more excellent woman to her own.—­There, Harriet, is a grave paragraph:  you’ll like me for it.

You are a very reflecting girl, in mentioning to me, so particularly, your behaviour to your Grevilles, Fenwicks, and Ormes.  What is that but saying, See, Charlotte!  I am a much more complacent creature to the men, no one of which I intend to have, than you are to your husband!

What a pious woman, indeed, must be your grandmamma, that she could suspend her joy, her long-absent darling at her feet, till she had first thanked God for restoring her to her arms!  But, in this instance, we see the force of habitual piety.  Though not so good as I should be myself, I revere those who are so; and that I hope you will own is no bad sign.