But a volatility amazing even in Boswell produces on the following day a letter which is full of the charms of Miss Blair. The more violent the quarrel the more pleasing the peace-making. A meeting is arranged at Edinburgh; a declaration is made and the now enthusiastic suitor reports, 'I ventured to seize her hand. She is really the finest woman I ever saw.' The 'princess' however is still reserved, and determined efforts have to be made at the theatre. Next evening I was at the play with them; it was 'Othello.' I sat close behind the princess, and at the most affecting scenes I pressed my hand upon her waist; she was in tears and rather leaned to me. The jealous Moor described my very soul. I often spake to her of the torment she saw before her. But even after this touching scene there is cause for disquiet. 'Still,' he says, 'I thought her distant, and still I felt uneasy.' The encouragement however was sufficient to give confidence to the attack, and there follows a _tête-à-tête_ in which 'pleasure from the intimacy of often squeezing and kissing her fine hand, while she looked at me with those beautiful black eyes,' was somewhat darkened by a disconcerting surprise. 'I then asked her to tell me if she had any particular liking for me. What think you, Temple, was her answer? "No; I really have no particular liking for you; I like many people as well as you--I like Jeany Maxwell better than you."' Consolation must now be sought where love is denied. _Boswell_: 'If you should happen to love another, will you tell me immediately and help me to make myself easy?' _Princess_: 'Yes, I will.' But the lady's sympathy shows a want of imagination which is highly unsatisfying. _Boswell_: 'I must, if possible, endeavour to forget you. What would you have me do?' _Princess_: 'I really don't know what you should do.'