said Kitty

Holles, if it be not too bold a request, let us hear what they were.
The reading in fashion when I was young, was Romances. You, my children, have, in that respect, fallen into happier days. The present age is greatly obliged to the authors of the Spectators. But till I became acquainted with my dear Mrs. Eggleton, which was about my sixteenth year, I was over-run with the absurdities of that unnatural kind of writing.
And how long, madam, did they hold?
Not till I was quite twenty. That good Lady cured me of so false a taste: But till she did, I had very high ideas of first impressions; of eternal constancy; of Love raised to a pitch of idolatry. In these dispositions, not more than nineteen, was my dear Mr. Shirley proposed to me, as a person whose character was faultless; his offers advantageous. I had seen him in company two or three times, and looked upon him merely as a good sort of man; a sensible man—But what was a good sort of man to an Oroondates? He had paid no addresses to me: He applied to my friends on a foot of propriety and prudence. They laid no constraint upon me. I consulted my own heart—But, my dear girls, what a temptation have you thrown in the way of narrative old age!
All of us most eagerly besought her to go on.
The excellent Mrs. Eggleton knew my heart better than I did myself. Even now, said she, you dislike not this worthy man. You can make no reasonable objection to his offer. You are one of many Sisters [We were then a numerous family—Alas! how many dear friends have I out lived!] A match so advantageous for you, will be of real benefit to your whole family. Esteem, heightened by Gratitude, and enforced by Duty, continued she, will soon ripen into Love: The only sort of Love that suits this imperfect state; a tender, a faithful affection. There

is a superior ardor due only to Supreme perfection and only to be exercised by us mortal creatures in humble devotion. My dear Henrietta, concluded she, condescend to be happy in such a way as suits this mortal state.
I replied to her, with distress of mind, proceeded Mrs. Shirley, that I could not depend upon my own sentiments. I had seen little of the world. Suppose, after I have vowed Love to a man quite indifferent to me, I should meet with the very one, the kindred soul,