I hope not, I hope not, said she, with quick

ness.

Should you, madam, on your return to Italy, be unwilling to see the Count as a friend to your family, as a respecter of your great qualities, as a countryman?

I shall always regard the Count of Belvedere, as a man of honour, as a friend of my brother Giacomo, of all our family-But I cannot place him in any other light. What means the Chevalier Grandison? Keep not my mind in suspense.

I will not. Your father, your mother, your brothers, came over, in hopes that you might be prevailed upon in the Count's favour. They have given up that hope

They have, sir!

And will absolutely leave you to your own will, to your own wishes, on the condition to which you have agreed to sign-But shall I ask you— Were the Count to be in France, would you allow him to come over, and take leave of your family and you, before he sets out for the court of Madrid ?

What, sir! as a man who had hopes from me of more than my good wishes?

No, madam; only as a friend to the whole family—not requesting any other favour, now he sees you so determined, than your good wishes, your prayers, for him, as you will ever have his for you.

I can consent in that view: but were any other favour to be hoped from me; were my generosity to be expected to be prevailed upon-O chevalier! Lady Grandison! Mrs Beaumont! Let me not be attempted in this way: The articles would be broken. This would be persuasion, and that compulsion.

Nothing, madam, of this kind is intended. The articles will be inviolably observed on the part of your relations. But here Mrs Beaumont, who never intended to set her foot on the English shore, to oblige and comfort your mother, is come to England; and in the general grief that was occasioned by your absenting yourself, if the man, who was always deservedly esteemed by your family, had accompanied, had attended, your father, your brothers

Sir Charles stopt, and looked at the apprehensive lady with such a sweet benignity, and, on her eye meeting his, with such tender and downcast modesty (All the graces of gentle persuasion are his!)

O chevalier! your request! your request! Tell me in what I can oblige the most obliging of friends, of men !

I will tell you, madam-bowing on the hand he held-Consent, if it be not with too much pain to yourself, to see the Count of Belvedere. See him, sir! How? When? Where? As what?

As a friend to your family-a well-wisher to your glory and happiness; and as a man ready

and desirous to promote the latter at the expense of his own. He wishes but, while he stays

here Stays here, sir!

To be allowed to visit your family, and to see you once, twice, thrice, as you please-but entirely under the conditions of the articles to be signed to-morrow.

And is then the Count in England?

He is, madam. He attended his and your friends over. He has not once desired to appear in your presence: he keeps himself close in private lodgings. Hence judge of his resolution not to disturb or offend you. He will depart the kingdom without an interview, if you will have it so but I could not bear, that so good a man should be obliged to depart disgracefully, as I may say, and as if he were undeserving of pity, though he could not obtain favour. O chevalier!

Secured, madam, by the articles, though his emotion may be apprehended to be great, yours cannot-There is not the same reason for the one as for the other: I make it my request, that the Count of Belvedere may be allowed, as one of the chosen friends of your house, but as no more (more the articles forbid,) a place at my table to-morrow.

To-morrow, sir! and I present !—
He bowed affirmatively.

O how the penetrating man looked into the heart of the lady at her eyes!-As sure as you are alive, madam, he thought of guessing, by her then emotion, whether any hopes could distantly lie for the Count, by the consequence his presence or absence would give him with her.

She paused-At last-And is this, chevalier, the request you had to make me?

It is, madam; and if my Harriet had not had the honour of this visit, I should have made the same request for his admission in the evening to-morrow-as now I do to dinner.

Well, sir! I can suspect no double-dealing from Sir Charles Grandison.

I ask for no favour for the Count more than I have mentioned, madam: I am bound by the articles I have drawn, as if I were a party to them.

Well, sir, I consent to see the Count. He will be prudent. I hope I shall be so. In Italy, more than once, after you had left it, I saw him: and I always wished him happy.

Now, my dearest sister, said Sir Charles, my ever-to-be-respected friend, I am easy in my mind. I could not bear in my thoughts, that anything I knew, which it concerned you to know, should be concealed from you.

Tears stood in her eyes. O madam, said she to me, God and you only can reward this excellent man for his goodness to me, and all the world that know him. You see your influence,

Thursday Night.

JUST returned. All happily over! A fine girl!-Yet, though a fine one, how are the Earl and Lady Gertrude disappointed!-Poor mortals! how hard to be pleased!

The brave are always humane. Sir Charles's tender and polite behaviour on this occasionHow does every occurrence endear him to everybody!

How dearly does Lord Glove his Charlotte! Till all was over, he was in agonies for her safety. His prayers then, his thankfulness now, how ought they to endear him to his Charlotte! And so they must, when she is told of his anxiety, and of his honest joy, or I will not own her for my sister. But in her heart, I am sure she loves him. Her past idle behaviour to him was but play. She will be matronized now. The mother must make her a wife. She will doubly disgrace herself, if she loves her child, and cau make a jest of her husband.

I have just now asked Sir Charles, whether, if he could prevail on Lady Clementina, while they were all with us, to give her hand to the Count of Belvedere, he would? By no means, said he, and that for both their sakes. Lady Clementina has, on many occasions, shewn that she may be prevailed upon by generous and patient treatment: let the Count have patience. If she recover her mind, a train of cheerful ideas

may take place of those melancholy ones, which make her desirous of quitting society. She will find herself, by the articles agreed to, in a situation to do more good, than it is possible she could do, were her inclination to take the veil to be gratified. The good she will do will open and enlarge a mind which is naturally noble; and she will be grateful for the indulgence given her, which will be the means of so happy a change: but if the poor lady's mind be not curable, (which God forbid,) who will pity the Count for not being able to obtain her hand?I think, my dear, I have made him, though not happy, easy; and I hope he will be able to see her without violent emotions.

Friday Morning. Signors Sebastiano and Juliano are come back, rejoicing that they have been introduced to, and kindly received by, Lady Clementina.

Sir Edward Beauchamp has just left me. How happy does the account he gives of my Emily's cheerfulness make me! I knew you would all love her.

Sincerely do I rejoice in the news which my Nancy confirms, that Lucy has absolutely rejected the addresses of Mr Greville. She startled me once, I can tell her! A naughty girl! what could she mean by it?

Won't she give me the particulars under her own hand? I shall be afraid of her till she does; so much was I impressed by her warmth in the argument she once held with me, in his favour, as I thought. Yet I cordially wish Mr Greville well; but my Lucy better. Pray, madam, let me privately know, if the proposals for the young Irish peer, whom Nancy praises so much for his sobriety, modesty, learning, and other good qualities, were made before or after the rejecting of Mr Greville? I half mistrust the girls who have been disappointed of a first love. Yet Lucy's victory over herself was a noble one. She is in the way, I hope, to be rewarded for it. God grant it!-Think you, my dear grandmamma, I can be solicitous (as I am from the bottom of my heart) for the happiness of a new-adopted sister, and not be inexpressibly anxious for that of my Lucy, the faithful, the affectionate friend of my earlier years?

Our guests are entering.-May the same gracious Providence, which has more than answered every wish of your Harriet's heart in her own situation, shower down its blessings on Lucy, on you, and all the revered, the beloved circle! prays, my dear grandmamma,

Your and their ever-dutiful
and affectionate

HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCXCVIII.

LADY GRANDISON.

[In continuation.]

Saturday, March 31. Now, my dear grandmamma, let me give you some account of what passed yesterday.

The articles, signed and witnessed, were put into Lady Clementina's hand, and a pen given her, that she might write her name, in the presence of all her surrounding friends here.

Never woman appeared with more dignity in her air and manner. She was charmingly dressed, and became her dress. A truly-lovely woman! But every one by looks seemed concerned at her solemnity. She signed her name; but tore off, deliberately, their names; and, kissing the torn bit, put it in her bosom: then, throwing herself on her knees to her father and mother, who stood together, and presenting the paper to the former; Never let it be said, that your child, your Clementina, has presumed to article in form with the dearest of parents. My name stands. It will be a witness against me, if I break the articles which I have signed. But in your forgiveness, my lord, in yours, madam, and in a thousand acts of indulgence, I have too much experienced your past, to doubt your future, goodness to me. Your intention, my everhonoured parents, is your act. I pray to God to enable your Clementina to be all you wish her to be. In the single life only indulge me. Your word is all the assurance I wish for. I will have no other.

They embraced her. They tenderly raised her between them; and again embraced her.

I would not, methinks, sir, said she, turning to Sir Charles, for the first time see the Count of Belvedere before all this company, though I revere every one in it. Is the Count in the house?

He is in my study, madam.

Will my mamma, said she, turning to her, honour me with her presence?

She gave her hand to Sir Charles, and took mine. Jeronymo followed her; and Sir Charles led her into the next room. Too great solemnity in all this! whispered the Marquis to Father Marescotti. She curtseyed, invitingly, to Mrs Beaumont. She also followed her.

Sir Charles, seating her and the Marchioness, by the young lady's silent permission, went into his study; and, having prepared the Count to expect a solemn and uncommon reception, introduced him. He approached her, profoundly bowing: a sweet blush overspread her cheeks: You, my Lord of Belvedere, said she, are one of those my friends, to whom I am, in some measure, accountable for the rash step which brought me into this kingdom; because it has

induced you to accompany my brothers, whom you have always honoured with your friendship. -Forgive me for any inconveniencies you have suffered on this occasion.

What honour does Lady Clementina do me to rank me in the number of the friends to whom she thinks herself accountable !-Believe me, madam

My lord, interrupted she, I shall always regard you as the friend of my family, and as my friend. I shall wish your happiness, I do wish your happiness, as my own; and I cannot give you a stronger proof that I do, than by withholding from you the hand which you have sought to obtain with an unshaken, and, my friends think, an obliging perseverance, quite through an unhappy malady, which ought to have deterred you, for many sakes, and most for

your own.

My dear mamma, throwing herself at her feet, forgive me for my perseverance. It is not altogether owing (I hope it is not at all owing) to perverseness, and to a wilful resistance of the wills and wishes of all my friends, that I have withstood you. Two reasons influenced me, when I declined another hand: religion and country, a double reason, was one; the unhappy malady which had seized me, was another. Two reasons, rising with dignity, and turning from her weeping mother, also influence me with regard to the Count of Belvedere; though neither of them are the important articles of religion and country. I own to you, before these my dearest friends, and let it be told to every one whom it concerns to know it, that justice to the Count of Belvedere is one-What a wretch should I be, if I gave my hand to a man who had not the preference in my heart, which is a husband's due! -And should I, who had an unhappy reason to refuse one worthy man for his own sake, perhaps for the sakes of the unborn, (I will speak out on this important occasion,) not be determined to do as much justice to another?-In one word, I refused to punish the Chevalier Grandison: [Madam, to me, you know my story:] What has the Count of Belvedere done, that I should make no scruple to punish him? My good lord, be satisfied with my wishes for your happiness. I find myself, at times, very, very wrong. I have given proofs but too convincing to all my friends, that I am not right. -While I so think, conscience, honour, justice, (as I told you once before, my good chevalier,) compel me to embrace the single life.—I have, in duty to my nearest friends, given up the way I should have chosen to lead it in.-Let me try to recover myself in their way. My dearest, dearest mamma, (again dropping on her knees to her,) I will endeavour to make all my friends happy in the way they have agreed to make me so. Pray for me, all my friends!-looking round her, tears in big drops trickling down her cheeks. Then rising, Pray for me, my Lord of Belve

dere: I will for you; and that you may do justice to the merit of some worthier woman, who can do justice to yours.

She hurried from us, in a way which shewed she was too much elevated for her bodily powers. Sir Charles besought Mrs Beaumont to follow her. Mrs Beaumont took my hand.

We found the lady in the study: she was on her knees, and in tears. She arose at our entrance. Each of us hastening to give her a hand, O my dear Lady Grandison! said she, forgive me-Am I, am I wrong, my dear Mrs Beaumont?-Tell me, Have I behaved amiss?

We both applauded her. Well we might. If her greatness be owing to a raised imagination, who shall call it a malady? Who, but for the dear lady's own sake, would regret the next to divine impulse, by which, on several occasions, she has shewn herself actuated?

She suffered herself to be led to her mother, who embracing her, (Clementina again kneeling to her,) My dearest child, my blessed daughter, we all of us, while such are your apprehensions, must acquiesce with your reasons. Be happy, my love, in your own magnanimity. I glory in my child.

And I in my sister, said the noble Jeronymo -Saint! Angel! kneeling to her on one knee, notwithstanding his lameness, Inext to adore my sister.

She called him her brother, her true brother. Then taking my hand: And will you, Lady Grandison, said she, be my sister? Shall Sir Charles Grandison be my brother? Will you return with us into Italy? Shall we cultivate on both sides a family friendship to the end of our lives?

I threw my arms about her neck, tears mingling on the cheeks of both: It will be my am-bition, my great ambition, to deserve the distinction you give me-My sister, my friend, the sister of my best friend, love him as he honours you; and me for his sake, as I will you for your own, as well as for his, to the end of my life.

Sir Charles clasped his arms about us both. His eyes spoke his admiration of her, and his delight in each. Angels he called us.

Then seating us, he took the Count's hand; and, leading him to her, Let me, madam, present to you the Count of Belvedere, as a man equally to be pitied and esteemed. He yields to your magnanimity with a greatness of mind like Receive then, acknowledge, the friend in him. He will endeavour to forego a dearer hope.

your own.

Then will I receive him as my friend. I thank you, my lord, for the honour you have so long done me. May you be happy with a woman, who can deserve you!-See that happy pair before you !-May you be as happy as Sír Charles Grandison !-What greater felicity can I wish you?

He took her hand: on one knee he lifted it to his lips: I will tear from you, madam, a tormentor. I must ask nothing of you; but, for myself, I can only promise, in the words of the Chevalier Grandison, to endeavour to forego, a dearer, the dearest, hope.

The Count arose, bowing to her with profound respect; his eyes full; as his heart seemed to be. Signor Jeronymo motioned to return to the company. Lady Clementina wished to retire with me, till what had passed was related to the rest. I led her to my closet. There did we renew our vows of everlasting friendship.

Sir Charles, thinking the relation would be painful to the Count, withdrew with him into his study. Mrs Beaumont and Signor Jeronymo told those who were not present at the affecting scenes, what had passed.

When we were summoned to dinner, every one received Lady Clementina as an angel. They applauded her for her noble behaviour to the Count, and blessed themselves for having taken the resolution of coming to England; and, most of all, they blessed my dear Sir Charles; to whom they ascribed all their opening happy prospects; and promised themselves that his family and theirs would be as much one, as if the alliance, once so near taking place, had actually done so.

Sir Charles, at and after dinner, urged the carrying into execution the latter part of his beneficent plan. He offered to attend them to the drawing-room, to the play, to the oratorios; (and took that opportunity to give the praises which everybody allows to be due to Mr Handel;) and to every place of public entertainment which was worthy the notice of foreigners; and left it to their choice, whether they would go first to Grandison-Hall, or satisfy their curiosity in and about town.

The Marquis said, that as Sir Charles and I were brought out of the country by the arrival of their Clementina, and our expectation of them, he doubted not but it would be most agreeable to us, to return to our own seat; adding, politely, that the highest entertainment they could have, would be the company and conversation of us, and our friends; and that rather at our own seats than anywhere else. The public diversions, he was pleased to say, might take their attention afterwards. Now they were here, they would not be in haste to return, provided Sir Charles and his friends would answer the hope he had given of accompanying them back to Italy.

There is no repeating the polite and agreeable things, that were said on all sides.

Well then, my dear grandmamma, to cut short, thus it was at last agreed upon :

The Count of Belvedere, who, all the afternoon and evening, received the highest marks of civility and politeness from the admirable Cle

mentina, (which, by the way, I am afraid will not promote his cure,) proposes, with Signors Sebastiano, and Juliano, to pass a month or six weeks in seeing everything which they shall think worthy of their notice in and about this great city; and then, after one farewell visit to us, they intend to set out together for the court of Madrid; where the Count intends to stay some months.

We shall set out, on Monday next, for Grandison-Hall.

Lord and Lady L

week or fortnight.

glected. Answer the letter therefore for me, and for yourself; yet remember, that I do not engage to abide implicitly by your determination. Ever, ever, my Charlotte, Your most affectionate

HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCXCIX.

will follow us in a

MISS LUCY SELBY TO LADY GRANDISON.

How will the poor dear Charlotte mutter! whispered Lady L- to me: but she and her

lord will join us as soon as possible.

Mrs Eleanor Grandison loves not the Hall, be cause of the hardships she received from the late owner of it, Sir Thomas; and thinks herself bound by a rash vow, which she made the last times he was there, never again to enter its gates.

Lady Clementina whispered to me more than once, how happy she should think herself in these excursions; and hoped all their healths would be established by them. She said the sweetest, the most affectionate things to me. Once she said, bidding me call her nothing but my Clementina, that she should be happy, if she were sure I loved her as much as she loved me. I assured her, and that from my very heart, that I dearly loved her.

Surely it was a happy incident, my dear grandmamma, that Lady Clementina took a step, which, though at first it had a rash appearance, has been productive of so much joy to all around, (the poor Count of Belvedere excepted,) and, in particular, to

Your ever-dutiful, ever-grateful,
HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCXCVIII.

LADY GRANDISON TO LADY G

Grandison-Hall, Monday, April 9. How happy, my dear Lady G, are we all of us here, in one another! How happy is your Harriet! And yet when you can come, and partake of my felicity, it will be still enlarged.

I have just now received a letter from Lucy. The contents, as you will see, (for I shall enclose it,) are a conversation that passed a few days ago at Shirley-Manor, upon a subject of which you are a better judge than your Harriet. In short, it is a call upon you, as I interpret it, to support your own doctrines; by which, in former letters, you have made some of the honest girls in England half ashamed to own a first passion. You know how much I am at present engaged. I would not have the dear girls ne

VOL. VIII.

[Enclosed in the preceding.]

Thursday, April 5.

EVERY hour in the day, some circumstance or other makes me wish my dear Lady Grandison in Northamptonshire. Emily charms us all— But still every object reminds us of our Harriet. Not that Harriet alone would content us now. Nor could Sir Charles and Lady Grandison be at this time spared by their noble guests. After all, therefore, everything is best as it is. But indeed we all wished for you yesterday evening, most particularly, at Shirley-Manor. The conversation was an interesting one to all us girls; and Emily, Nancy, and our cousins Holles, have brought me to give you an account of it, and to appeal to you upon it; and through you to Lady G. And yet we are all of us more than half afraid of a lady, who has already treated but lightly a subject that young women think of high importance.

The conversation began with my cousin Kitty's greatly pitying Lady Clementina; describing, in her pathetic way, the struggles she had had between her first duties and her inclination; the noble preference she had given to the former; and the persecution, as she called it, of all her friends to induce her to marry, when she chooses to live single all her life. Every one of us young folks joined with my cousin Kitty.

But your grandmamma Shirley could not, she said, perfectly agree with us in the hardship of Lady Clementina's situation; who having from noble motives spontaneously rejected the man of her choice, was, from reasons of family convenience, and even of personal happiness, urged to marry a nobleman, who, by all accounts, is highly deserving and agreeable, and every way suitable to her: a man, in short, to whom she pretended not an aversion; nor hoped nor wished to be the wife of any other man; proposing to herself only the single life, and having given up all thoughts of taking the veil.

Personal happiness! cried out Miss Kitty Holles: Can the woman be happy in a second choice, whose first was Sir Charles Grandison?

And whom, for noble motives, she refused, said my aunt Selby, remember that, Kitty; and whom she wished to be, and who actually is, the husband of another woman. 3 в