The Fortunate Foundlings | Page 9

of them, my chaplain should this moment put it past a doubt, and confirm my proposal:--but, pursued he, I will not put your modesty to any farther shock at present;--all I intreat is, that you will consider on what I have said, and what the passion I am possessed of merits from you. In concluding these words he kissed her with the utmost tenderness, and quitted her to speak to some men who were at work in another part of the garden, leaving her to meditate at liberty on this surprizing turn in her affairs.
It was indeed necessary he should do so, for the various agitations she laboured under were so violent, as to be near throwing her into a swoon.--She no sooner found herself alone, than she flew to her chamber, and locked herself in, to prevent being interrupted by any of the servants; and as in all emotions of the mind, especially in that of a surprize, tears are a very great relief, her's found some ease from the sources of her eyes.--Never had the most dutiful child loved the tenderest of fathers more than she did Dorilaus; but then it was only a filial affection, and the very thoughts of his regarding her with that sort of passion she now found he did, had somewhat in them terribly alarming.--All she could do to reconcile herself to what seemed to be her fate was in vain.--This generous man who offers me his heart, said she, is not my father, or any way of my blood:--he has all the accomplishments of his whole sex centered in him.--I could wish to be for ever near him.--All that I am is owing to his goodness.--How wretched must I have been but for his bounty!--What unaccountable prejudice is this then that strikes me with such horror at his love!--what maid of birth and fortune equal to his own but would be proud of his addresses; and shall I, a poor foundling, the creature of his charity, not receive the honour he does me with the utmost gratitude!--shall I reject a happiness so far beyond my expectation! --so infinitely above any merit I can pretend to!--what must he think of me if I refuse him!--how madly stupid, how blind to my own interest, how thankless to him must I appear!--how will he despise my folly!--how hate my ingratitude!
Thus did her reason combat with her prejudice, and she suffered much the same agonies in endeavouring to love him in the manner he desired, as he had done to conquer the inclination he had for her, and both alike were fruitless. Yet was her condition much more to be commiserated: he had only to debate within himself whether he should yield or not to the suggestions of his own passion: she to subdue an aversion for what a thousand reasons concurred to convince her she ought rather to be ambitious of, and which in refusing she run the risque of being cast off, and abandoned to beggary and ruin; and what was still more hateful to her, being hated by that person who, next to her brother, she loved above the world, tho' in a different way from that which could alone content him.
Dorilaus, who had taken the disorder he perceived in her for no other than the effects of a surprize, which a declaration, such as he had made, might very well occasion, was perfectly contented in his mind, and passed that night with much more tranquility than he had done many preceding ones, while he suffered his cruel reason to war against the dictates of his heart; but having now wholly given himself up to the latter, the sweet delusion filled him with a thousand pleasing ideas, and he thought of nothing but the happiness he should enjoy in the possession of the amiable Louisa. But how confounded was he, when the next day accosting her with all the tender transports of a lover, she turned from him, and burst into a flood of tears. How is this, Louisa, said he; do the offers I make you merit to be treated with disdain? has my submitting to be your lover forfeited that respect you were wont to pay me as a guardian? O do not, sir, accuse me of such black ingratitude, replied she; heaven knows with what sincere and humble duty I regard you, and that I would sooner die than wilfully offend you; but if I am so unfortunate as not to be able to obey you in this last command, impute it, I beseech you, to my ill fate, and rather pity than condemn me.
You cannot love me then? cried he, somewhat feircely. No otherwise than I have ever done, answered she. My heart is filled with duty, reverence and