, "the ridiculous prudery of disclaiming any knowledge of

her, because she does not rank among those who are falsely called virtuous women: by heaven she has virtues that might redeem the vices of half her sex; not one in a thousand of whom possess a twentieth part of her worth."
"I mean not," answered Celestina, mildly, "to dispute her value, but only to ask on what pretension you urge to me either the resignation or opinions of a person with whom I have no acquaintance."
"Why will you pretend not to know her," resumed he with redoubled impetuosity—"why affect not to know that Emily, who has lived with me almost twelve months, is the sister of your Mrs. Elphinstone, and of that Cathcart whom Willoughby picked up and placed as his steward at Alvestone."
"I have heard there is such a person," said Celestina: "but I did not know she lived with you."
"Yes, she has lived with me some time, though I did not till lately know her family.

Unworthy and disgraced as you may think her, she should at this moment have been mistress of my house and my fortune, by what you would call legal claims, if I had not, like a cursed fool as I am, taken up a passion for you which I cannot get rid of, and which my generous little girl not only knows, but with disinterested affection, instead of trying to dissuade me from it, wishes me to succeed in. I have sometimes fancied, that your knowledge of my attachment to her was in my way; and that circumstance, together with the eternal mystery that always hung over Willoughby's intentions—in short, my hopes of being cured of a damned folly, by reason and absence, instead of matrimony, have altogether made me refrain from visiting you lately. But now I think, since George is gone out of town and returns only to be married to Miss Fitz-Hayman, there is an end of that; and for my experiment—curse me if I believe it will do; and so here I am again, more in love and a greater

blockhead than ever. Don't, however, mistake me, Celestina: I will not, I cannot bear to be trisled with; nor will I sacrifice one hour, either to your coquetry or to the absurd partiality which I sometimes used to believe you had, for that whining, snivelling Montague Thorold. If there are no other pretensions than his in the way, I shall soon know how to settle the matter.
