Chapter 22

H--, August 19, Tuesday.

I RECEIVED both your letters to-day--I had reckoned on hearing from you yesterday, therefore was disappointed, though I imputed your silence to the right cause. I intended answering your kind letter immediately, that you might have felt the pleasure it gave me; but ------ came in, and some other things interrupted me; so that the fine vapour has evaporated--yet, leaving a sweet scent behind, I have only to tell you, what is sufficiently obvious, that the earnest desire I have shown to keep my place, or gain more ground in your heart, is a sure proof how necessary your affection is to my happiness.--Still I do not think it false delicacy, or foolish pride, to wish that your attention to my happiness should arise _as much_ from love, which is always rather a selfish passion, as reason--that is, I want you to promote my felicity, by seeking your own.--For, whatever pleasure it may give me to discover your generosity of soul, I would not be dependent for your affection on the very quality I most admire. No; there are qualities in your heart, which demand my affection; but, unless the attachment appears to me clearly mutual, I shall labour only to esteem your character, instead of cherishing a tenderness for your person.

I write in a hurry, because the little one, who has been sleeping a long time, begins to call for me. Poor thing! when I am sad, I lament that all my affections grow on me, till they become too strong for my peace, though they all afford me snatches of exquisite enjoyment--This for our little girl was at first very reasonable--more the effect of reason, a sense of duty, than feeling--now, she has got into my heart and imagination, and when I walk out without her, her little figure is ever dancing before me.

You too have somehow clung round my heart--I found I could not eat my dinner in the great room--and, when I took up the large knife to carve for myself, tears rushed into my eyes.--Do not however suppose that I am melancholy--for, when you are from me, I not only wonder how I can find fault with you--but how I can doubt your affection.

I will not mix any comments on the inclosed (it roused my indignation) with the effusion of tenderness, with which I assure you, that you are the friend of my bosom, and the prop of my heart.

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