For the present, Adieu, my Lucy.
P.S. Dr. Bartlett tells me, that Mr. Beauchamp is at Calais, waiting the
pleasure of his father; and that Sir Harry has sent express for him, as
at his lady's motion.
LETTER X
MISS BYRON.--IN CONTINUATION
TUESDAY, APRIL 4.
Sir Charles Grandison came to town last night. He was so polite as to
send to inquire after my health; and to let Mr. Reeves know, that he
would do himself the honour, as he called it, of breakfasting with him
this morning. Very ceremonious either for his own sake or for mine--
Perhaps for both.
So I am in expectation of seeing within this half-hour, the noble
Clementina's future--Ah Lucy!
The compliment, you see, is to Mr. Reeves--Shall I stay above, and see if
he will ask for me? He owes me something for the emotion he gave me in
Lord L----'s library. Very little of him since have I seen.
'Honour forbids me,' said he, then: 'Yet honour bids me.--But I cannot be
ungenerous, selfish.'--These words are still in my ear.--What could he
mean by them?--Honour forbids me--What! to explain himself? He had been
telling me a tender tale: he had ended it. What did honour forbid him to
do?--Yet honour bids me! Why then did he not follow the dictates of
honour?
But I cannot be unjust:--To Clementina he means. Who wished him to be
so?--Unjust! I hope not. It is a diminution to your glory, Sir Charles
Grandison, to have the word unjust, in this way of speaking, in your
thoughts! As if a good man had lain under a temptation to be unjust; and
had but just recollected himself.
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