like merits, my dear, as person is not the principal motive, may produce like attachments. my lord d will be, in your hands, another sir charles grandison. how good you are, my dear lady d! but allow me to repeat, as the strongest expression i can use, because i mean it to carry in it all the force that can be given it, that my heart is already a wedded heart. you have spoken with great force: god bless you, my dear, as i love you! the matter shall take its course. if my lord should happen to be a single man some time hence (and, i can tell you, that your excellencies will make our choice difficult): and if your mind, from any accident, or from persuasion of friends, should then have received alteration; you may still be happy in each other. i will therefore only thank you for that openness of heart, which must set free the heart of my sonhad you had the least lurking inclination to coquetry, and could have taken pride in conquests, he might have been an undone man.we will return to the companybut spare him, my dear: you must not talk much. he will love you, if you do, too fervently for his own peace. try to be a little awkwardi am afraid for him: indeed i am. o that you had never seen sir charles grandison! i could not answer one word. she took my hand; and led me into the company. had i been silent, when my lord directed his discourse to me, or answered only no, or yes, the countess would have thought me very vain; and that i ascribed to myself the consequence she so generously gave me, with respect to my lord. i therefore behaved and answered unaffectedly; but avoided such a promptness of speech, as would have looked like making pretensions to knowledge and opinion, though some of my lords questions were apparently designed to engage me into freedom of discourse. the countess observed me narrowly. she whispered to me, that she did; and made me a very high compliment on my behaviour. how much, lucy, do i love and reverence her! my lord was spoken too slightly of, by miss grandison, in a former conversation. he is really a fine gentleman. any woman who is not engaged in her affections, may think herself very happy with him. his conversation was easy and polite, and he said nothing that was low or trifling. indeed, lucy, i think mr. greville and mr. fenwick are as greatly inferior to lord d, as lord d is to sir charles grandison. at parting, he requested of me, to be allowed to repeat his visits. my lord, said the countess, before i could answer, you must not expect a mere stiff maiden answer from miss byron: she is above all vulgar forms. she and her cousins have too much politeness, and, i will venture to say, discernment, not to be glad of your acquaintance, as an acquaintance but, for the rest, you must look to your heart. i shall be afraid, said he, turning to the countess, to ask your ladyship for an explanation. miss byron, i hope, sir, addressing himself to mr. reeves, will not refuse me her company, when i pay you my compliments. then turning to me, i hope, madam, i shall not be punished for admiring you. my lord d, replied i, will be entitled to every civility. i had said more, had he not snatched my hand a little too eagerly, and kissed it. and thus much for the visit of the countess of d and the earl. did i tell you in my former letter, that emily is with me half her time? she is a most engaging young creature. her manners are so pure! her heart is so sincere and open!o, lucy! you would dearly love her. i wish i may be asked to carry her down with me. yet she adores her guardian: but her reverence for him will not allow of the innocent familiarity in thinking of him, thati dont know what i would say. but to love with an ardor, that would be dangerous to ones peace, one must have more tenderness than reverence for the object: dont you think so, lucy? miss grandison made me one of her flying visits, as she calls them, soon after the countess and my lord went away. mr. and mrs. reeves told her all that had been said before them by the earl and countess, as well before i went down to them, as after. they could not tell her what passed between that lady and me, when she took me aside. i had not had time to tell them. they referred to me for that: but besides that i was not in spirits, and cared not to say much, i was not willing to be thought by my refusal of so great an offer, to seem to fasten myself upon her brother. she pitied (who but must?) lady clementina. she pitied her brother also: and, seeing me dejected, she clasped her arms about me, and wet my cheek with a sisterly tear. is it not very strange, lucy, that his father should keep him so long abroad? these freeliving men! of what absurdities are they not guilty! what misfortunes to others do they not occasion? one might, with the excellent clementina, ask, what had mr. grandison to do in italy! or why, if he must go abroad, did he stay so long? travelling! young men travelling! i cannot, my dear, but think it a very nonsensical thing! what can they see, but the ruins of the gay, once busy world, of which they have read? to see a parcel of giddy boys under the direction of tutors or governors hunting afterwhat?nothing: or, at best, but ruins of ruins; for the imagination, aided by reflection, must be left, after all, to make out the greater glories, which the gravedigger time has buried too deep for discovery. and when this grand tour is completed, the travelled youth returns: and, what is his boast? why to be able to tell, perhaps his better taught friend, who has never been out of his native country, that he has seen in ruins, what the other has a juster idea of from reading; and of which, it is more than probable, he can give a much better account than the traveller. and are these, petulant harriet, (methinks, lucy, you demand,) all the benefits that you will suppose sir charles grandison has reaped from his travelling? why, no. but then, in turn, i ask, is every traveller a sir charles grandison?and does not even he confess to dr