 sunk within her while it could not deny the justice of this remark, sighed deeply, but remained silent; and Vavasour went on—"Be his motives, however, what they may, it is certainly your determination to await the event of this mysterious journey?"
"It is certainly," said she faintly.
"Well then, is there not any more eligible situation for you than one where you are the subject of such reports as I have just repeated to you? Suppose, if it be only for supposition sake, they were to reach Willoughby: if he still loves you—"
"If!" repeated Celestina; "good heaven! you believe then that it admits of a question."
"I did not mean to hurt you. But my dear Celestina, there is nothing so insecure as our affections I am afraid; and you must recollect too many instances of their change to suppose it quite impossible that—"
"Well, I will interrupt you no more. If then—if Willoughby still loves me—"

"He will suffer extremely from such a report; and should—though I allow it to be very improbable—should any change have happened, your apparent approbation of Montague Thorold will justify that caprice which nothing else can justify."
"Ah! Vavasour," said Celestina, in faultering accents, "I see, I too evidently see, that you believe your friend is lost to me for ever, and that all you have now said is merely to prepare me for a blow, which, if it fell on me suddenly, would, you think, destroy me; but believe me, Vavasour, believe me, suspense such as I have long endured—such as I at this moment endure—is, I think, more insupportable than any certainty could be, unless it were the certainty that Willoughby is more miserable than I am: that I think I could not bear: but for the rest, however I might suffer in my pride or in my love, I trust that my mind would in time be reconciled to whatever is inevitable; and perhaps," continued she, struggling with the violent

emotion she felt—"perhaps that very pride might assist me to cure the anguish of disappointed and improperly indulged affection. But yet it is surely impossible Willoughby can have acted as these suspicions in regard to Miss Fitz Hayman would make me imagine, and still write as he writes to me! However, Vavasour, I again entreat you, if you know more than I do, to conceal nothing from me through misplaced and needless tenderness."
"You know me very little," answered Vavasour, "or
