In short, I have done, as far as I know, the most rash thing that ever I did in my life.
But let me give you the motive, and then the action will follow of course.
About six o'clock this evening, my aunt (who stays here all night, on my account, no doubt) came up and tapped at my door; for I was writing; and had locked myself in. I opened it; and she entering, thus delivered herself:
I come once more to visit you, my dear; but sorely against my will; because it is to impart to you matters of the utmost concern to you, and to the whole family.
What, Madam, is now to be done with me? said I, wholly attentive.
You will not be hurried away to your uncle's, child; let that comfort you.—They see your aversion to go.—You will not be obliged to go to your uncle Antony's.
How you revive me, Madam! this is a cordial to my heart!
I little thought, my dear, what was to follow this supposed condescension.
And then I ran over with blessings for this good news, (and she permitted me so to do, by her silence); congratulating myself, that I thought my father could not resolve to carry things to the last extremity.—
Hold, Niece, said she, at last—you must not give yourself too much joy upon the occasion neither.—Don't be surprised, my dear.—Why look you upon me, child, with so affecting an earnestness?—but you must be Mrs. Solmes, for all that.