So to make a long story short, here I am again at Catania, for the purpose of making myself quite sure, that Adelina is as charming as my imagination has depicted her. I really don't think she is, for I certainly did not love her half so much when I was with her as I do now; perhaps my _mind_ was so much amused by her conversation, that little room was left for the expansion of the _feelings_; but they are unrestrained in absence, and its melancholy regrets are, I verily believe, more powerful than the most potent present charm. If Adelina is the superior character I take her for, I see no one good reason why she should not be my wife: I have, on considering the matter more maturely, put to flight the phantoms I had raised previous to my departure from this place. My father, when twice my age, (with therefore half the excuse) married for love, therefore why should not I? I am sure he will give me no opposition, for he has always been a most indulgent parent, and on a point where my happiness is so much concerned, I feel convinced my wishes would be his. Whenever he has, on points of minor importance, wavered in the least, my charming step-dame has always used her influence, to decide him in my favour, therefore I am certain of her support. Indeed what can my father object to in Adelina? He cannot surely want fortune for me? I do not know whether Adelina is or is not possessed of this root of all evil, but if she is not, it is the only want she can possibly have. But all this is for an after-thought, the preamble must be to gain Adelina's consent: she has shown me no particular preference as yet, but I am determined to think she will not withhold it; _Qui timidË rogat docet negare_[9], and the conviction of the success of our plans so often ensures it! [Footnote 9: Who timidly asks teaches to deny.] With these hopes I am now as happy, as I was miserable a short time ago. What fools we are to throw away the bliss we might enjoy, at the suggestions of that preposterous prudence, that leads us to seek for flaws in the short leases of happiness that are granted to us, and which, after all, when they expire are renewable at pleasure, if we would but pay the necessary fine, by sacrificing our proud splenetic discontents. Hypochondriac spirits may say as they like; but I will maintain, that to those who make the best of it, this is a very delightful world!