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126 Melliphant was not the man upon whom she could repose herself; that she had nought but pity, forgiveness,—perhaps a cold esteem,—to bestow, upon him. Her former disapprobation naturally of itself vanished; the cause in which it originated, she imagined, was now clear, evident, and convincing; no longer enveloped in shade on account of the great caution he had ever made use of, to conceal his attachment from the observation of any but herself.

His want of ingenuousness she might still declaim against, visible in so many concurrent circumstances,—the recommendations of the Nurse, combined with those of Mrs. Belmour; the books he had so assiduously pressed upon her,—it was impossible she could have remained so credulous and blind as not to perceive such a manner of acting involved design; and though she could never link her affections in association with one whose actions sprung not from that perfect integrity she so much reverenced and admired, yet when considered as the resources of love, springing from a natural diffidence of feeling, might she not excuse it?

Men were differently and variously acted upon, and however erroneous the judgment he had formed and the measures he had adopted, they had been such naturally most consonant with his ideas of attaining the object of his pursuit, that of being united to her by the connubial tie; and now that he no longer betrayed himself by hints, but had declared himself openly, how could she with justice condemn