Oh, no, no, no.

And may I hope in time to merit a return of love?

You merit it already, and you have it—But hold! restrain yourself. Don’t make it such a wonder that I speak the truth; but as I have answered fairly, hear me now in my turn, calmly, patiently, I pray you; for I verily believe, that upon the candour, with which you shall treat the sincere confession and appeal I am now about to make to you, the happiness of my life in future will depend.

Speak freely; I am all attention. I will not deceive you.

What I have said is true: I have full cause to love you: such as you are in every early excellence of mind and person, it would be out of nature if I did not. I can well believe it to be against rule for a young girl like me to make this frank confession: It seems so; and perhaps it was not quite in rule for me to suffer you to embrace me, whilst you uttered those emphatic, tender words; I could not help it: you embraced me once before; I could not help it then. The arms of no man since my father died ever embraced me, yours alone excepted. The delight, which those endearments gave me in both cases, I am not ashamed to own; for it was pure: but I should be sorry to indulge in that delight, however pure, which cannot be permanent; and would not wish to hear those fond rapturous words repeated, to which if I affixed a serious meaning, I must be the vainest and the weakest of all human beings. In one word, my dear sir, you, who are destined to so high a lot, must show some pity for a lowly creature that looks up to you with love and admiration, and must absolutely promise me to fill up your time at Glen Morgan, whilst I in obedience to Mr. De Lancaster’s commands pay a short visit of respect at Kray Castle.

If you think that I ought to be at Glen Morgan when you are at Kray Castle, John replied, I much doubt if I ought to be where I am at this moment; but why my lovely Amelia should mistrust either her own power, or my principle, I cannot tell.

You must not disappoint the expectation of your friends; you must not do what is unbecoming of your situation.

That’s true, my sweet Amelia; that is very true: I must not disgrace myself by any mean and infamous action: you would not like me if I did that; would you, Amelia?

Surely not.

I must not, for instance, make vehement protestations to an ingenuous, honourable, accomplished girl, draw her on to confess that I am not disagreeable to her, prevail upon her to endure my hypocritical caresses, and then turn my back upon her, and forsake her; would not that be scandalous?