If he rides out with my angel, for he's determin'd, he says, to make her
a complete horsewoman, I must not presume to give the least direction,
or _even_ touch the bridle.
I honour him for the tender regard he shews her:--yes, I go further;
_he_ and _Mr. Watson_ may _love_ her;--they do _love_ her, and glory in
declaring it.--I _love_ them in return;--but they are the only two, of
all the race of batchelors within my knowledge, that should make _such_
a declaration with impunity.
Let me see: I shall be in London Saturday evening;--Sunday, no
post;--Monday, _then_ I determine to write to Sir James;--Wednesday, I
may have an answer;--_Thursday_,--who knows but _Thursday!_--nothing is
impossible; who knows but _Thursday_ I may return to all my hopes?--How
much I resemble a shuttlecock! how am I thrown from side to side by hope
and fear; now up, now down; no sooner mounted by one hand than lower'd
by another!
This moment a gleam of comfort steals sweetly through my heart;--but it
is gone even before I could bid it welcome.--Why so fast!--to what spot
is it fled?--Can there be a wretch more in need, who calls louder for
its charitable ray than
DARCEY.
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