are. By book, as the saying is, will he pull you to him, struggle as you will (he has already got hold of you) or by crook; inviting, nay compelling you, by his generosity, gentle shepherdlike, to nymph as gentle. What you do, therefore, do with such a grace as may preserve to you the appearance of having it in your power to lay an obligation upon him. It is the opinion of both his sisters, that he values you more for your noble expansion of heart, and not ignorant, but generous frankness of manners, yet mingled with dignity; than for—even—your Beauty, Harriet—Whether you, who are in such full possession of every grace of person, care, as a woman, to hear of that, or not. His gay parterre similitude you remember, my dear. It is my firm belief, that those are the greatest admirers of fine flowers, who love to see them in their borders, and seldomest pluck the fading fragrance. The other wretches crop, put them in their bosoms, and in an hour or two, rose, carnation, or whatever, after one parting smell, throw them away.
He is very busy, where-ever he is. At his inn, I suppose, most. But he boasts not to you, or anybody, of what he does.
He writes now-and-then a Letter to aunt Nell, and

she is so proud of the favour—Look you here, niece; Look you here!—But I sha'n't shew you all he writes.—On go the spectacles—for she will not for the world part with the Letter out of her hands.—She reads one paragraph, one sentence, then another—On and off go the spectacles, while she conjectures, explains, animadverts, applauds; and so goes on till she leaves not a line unread: Then folding it up carefully in its cover, puts it in her Letter or Ribband-case, which shall I call it? For having but few Letters to put in it, the case is filled with bits and ends of ribbands, patterns, and-so-forth, of all manner of colours, faded and fresh; with intermingledoms of gold-beaters skin, plaisters for a cut finger, for a chopt lip, a kibe, perhaps for corns; which she dispenses occasionally very bountifully, and values herself, as we see at such times by a double chin made triple, for being not unuseful in her generation. Chide me, if you will; the humour's upon me; hang