'Stop, my good friend,' replied I, smilingly looking in his face; 'there is a possibility of exchanging evils. You are yet too young, and too unstable, maturely to have weighed the importance of the scheme you propose. Remember, likewise, that you are, yourself, in a great measure, dependent on the will of your father; and that much reflection is requisite before we fetter ourselves with engagements, that, once entered into, are not easily dissolved.' 'You allow me, then, to hope!' 'Indeed I meant not to imply any such thing. I wish to soften what I have already expressed--but, there are a variety of reasons which oblige me to assure you, that I see no probability of changing my sentiments on the subject.' 'Why, then, this cruel ostentation? I would either love or hate, bless or curse you.' 'You shall do neither, if I can prevent it. If my esteem is of any value to you, you must learn to respect both me and yourself.' 'Esteem!--Is that to be my frigid reward!' 'If _mine_ be worthless, propose to yourself _your own_ as a recompense.' 'I have already forfeited it, by seeking to move a heart, that triumphs in its cold inflexibility.' 'Is this just--is it kind? Is it, indeed, _my welfare_ you seek, while you can thus add to the vexations and embarrassment, which were before sufficiently oppressive? I would preserve you from an act of precipitation and imprudence;--in return, you load me with unmerited reproaches. But it is time to put an end to a conversation, that can answer little other purpose than vain recrimination.' He was about to speak--'Say no more--I feel myself, again, in danger of losing my temper--my spirits are agitated--I would not give you pain--Allow me to retire, and be assured of my best wishes.' Some of the family appearing in sight, as if advancing towards us, favoured my retreat. I quitted the place with precipitation, and retired to my chamber, where I sought, by employing myself, to calm the perturbation of my heart. CHAPTER XVIII