After he had made to her these several propositions, her displeasure held her for some time silent, while it affected her mind sensibly. Nevertheless, she endeavoured to recover herself to answer him in a decided, and, at the same time, in a manner compatible with her present feelings. She commenced urging him to endeavour to forget her in any other light than as a friend. "Can you suppose, Mr. Bolton," said she, "that I would set a parent's will at defiance, by committing so unwary an action as to dispose of myself in a clandestine manner, nor could you again imagine that I would give my hand where my heart has no particular regard." She scarcely uttered this, and could say no more ere he conjured her not to shut her heart against him for ever, and entreated her to permit him still to hope that after a while her compassion might become awakened to the remembrance of a sincere, true, and constant heart, which would cause her to heave the sympathetic sigh for one who could never eradicate her from his memory, even for a moment, or chase from his bosom the esteem and love that time could neither weaken nor extinguish. He was extremely sorrowful in taking leave of Alida and the family, and set out the ensuing day on his journey. Alida felt unhappy at the earnest importunities of a person she could not but have some esteem for. She could not fail to admire the superior powers of his mind. In his conversation, he was all that was agreeable, entertaining, and improving, which abounded with sallies of wit and humour, joined to a fund of erudition acquired by a collegiate education. He was particular to associate only with young men of merit, talents, and genius. He possessed a native vein of satire, which he sometimes indulged with much effect; though, however, he had this dangerous weapon under such thorough discipline, that he rarely made use of it in a way which gave offence to any. He never accumulated any wealth by his own exertion, as he thought what he already inherited was more than sufficient for all his wants. He seemed not to seek for an abundance, like many others, as necessary to his happiness, thinking that, with contentment, the peasant is greater than the prince destitute of this benign blessing, and that a competency, rather than a superfluity, could convey real happiness to man. He thought, that to the improper pursuit after happiness could be attributed much of the misery of mankind; daily he saw dread examples of this serious truth, that many, in grasping at the shadow, had lost the substance. A near relative had now been bountiful to leave him a fortune. That, however, he was thankful for, as it increased his fund for charitable purposes. His intention was to get possession of this and return to the city of New-York, to make it his permanent residence. CHAPTER XXII.