Didactic fiction; Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
Booth made a modest answer to the compliment which Miss Matthews had
paid him. This drew more civilities from the lady, and these again
more acknowledgments; all which we shall pass by, and proceed with our
history.
Chapter vi.
_Containing matters which will please some readers._
"Two months and more had I continued in a state of incertainty,
sometimes with more flattering, and sometimes with more alarming
symptoms; when one afternoon poor Atkinson came running into my room,
all pale and out of breath, and begged me not to be surprized at his
news. I asked him eagerly what was the matter, and if it was anything
concerning Amelia? I had scarce uttered the dear name when she herself
rushed into the room, and ran hastily to me, crying, 'Yes, it is, it
is your Amelia herself.'
"There is nothing so difficult to describe, and generally so dull when
described, as scenes of excessive tenderness."
"Can you think so?" says Miss Matthews; "surely there is nothing so
charming!--Oh! Mr. Booth, our sex is d--ned by the want of tenderness
in yours. O, were they all like you--certainly no man was ever your
equal."
"Indeed, madam," cries Booth, "you honour me too much. But--well--when
the first transports of our meeting were over, Amelia began gently to
chide me for having concealed my illness from her; for, in three
letters which I had writ her since the accident had happened, there
was not the least mention of it, or any hint given by which she could
possibly conclude I was otherwise than in perfect health. And when I
had excused myself, by assigning the true reason, she cried--'O Mr.
Booth! and do you know so little of your Amelia as to think I could or
would survive you? Would it not be better for one dreadful sight to
break my heart all at once than to break it by degrees?--O Billy! can
anything pay me for the loss of this embrace?'---But I ask your
pardon--how ridiculous doth my fondness appear in your eyes!"
"How often," answered she, "shall I assert the contrary? What would
you have me say, Mr. Booth? Shall I tell you I envy Mrs. Booth of all
the women in the world? would you believe me if I did? I hope you--
what am I saying? Pray make no farther apology, but go on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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