I try in vain to keep out of her sight:—if I attempt to leave the room where she is, my resolutions are baffled before I reach the door.—Why do I endeavour to inflict so hard a penance!—Because I foolishly suppose it would wean me.—Wean me from what?—From virtue.—No, Molesworth, it is not absence;—it is not time itself can deaden the exalted image;—it neither sickens or dies, it blooms to immortality,
Was I only to be parted from beauty, that I might meet again in every town and village.—I want you to force me from the house.—Suppose I get up early, and slip away without taking leave.—But that will not do;—Sir James is ceremonious;—Lady Powis may deem it disrespect;—above all, Miss Warley, that dear, dear Miss Warley,—if she should think me wanting in regard, all then must be at an end.
Ha! Sir James yonder on the terrace, and alone! Let me examine his countenance:—I see no clouds;—this is the time, if ever!—Miss Warley not yet come up from Jenkings's!—If successful, with what transports shall I run to fetch her!—Yes, I will venture;—I will have one trial, as I hope for mercy.—
As I hope for mercy, I see, were my last words.—I do indeed hope for it, but never from Sir James.
Still perplexed;—still miserable!—
I told you Miss Warley was not come from Jenkings's; but how I started, when I saw her going to Lady Powis's dressing-room!
I was hurried about her in a dream, last night.—I thought I had lost her:—I hinted it when we met;—that moment I fancied she eyed me with regard;—she spoke too in a manner very different from what she has done some days past.—Then I'll swear it,—for it was not illusion, George,—her whole face had something of a sweet melancholy spread over it;—a kind of resignation in her look;—a melting softness that droop'd on her cheek:—I felt what it expressed;—it fir'd my whole frame;—it sent me to Sir James with redoubled eagerness.
I found him thoughtful and complaisant: we took several turns, before I could introduce my intended subject; when, talking of my setting out, I said, Now I have an opportunity, Sir James, perhaps I may not have another before I go, I should be glad of your sentiments in regard to my settling in life.—
How do you mean, my Lord; as to the choice of a wife?—