Mr Montague, at the request of Augustus, spent that day, and the next, with us. I thought, I perceived, that he regarded Mr Harley with a scrutinizing eye, and observed my respect for, and attention to, him, with jealous apprehension. Before his departure, he requested half an hour's conversation with me alone, with which request I immediately complied, and withdrew with him into an adjoining compartment. He informed me-- 'That he was going to London to pursue his medical studies--that, on his return, his father had proposed to establish him in his profession--that his prospects were very favourable, and that he should esteem himself completely happy if he might, yet, hope to soften my heart in his favour, and to place me in a more assured and tranquil position.' I breathed a heavy sigh, and sunk into a melancholy reverie. 'Speak to me, Emma,' said he, with impatience, 'and relieve the anxiety I suffer.' 'Alas! What can I say?' 'Say, that you will try to love me, that you will reward my faith and perseverance.' 'Would to God, I could'--I hesitated--my eyes filled with tears--'Go to London,' resumed I; 'a thousand new objects will there quickly obliterate from your remembrance a romantic and ill-fated attachment, to which retirement, and the want of other impression, has given birth, and which owes its strength merely to opposition.' 'As that opposition,' retorted he, 'is the offspring of pride and insensibility--' I looked at him with a mournful air--'Do not reproach me, Montague, my situation is far more pitiable than yours. _I am, indeed, unhappy_,' --added I, after a pause; 'I, like you, am the victim of a raised, of, I fear, a distempered imagination.' He eagerly entreated me to explain myself. 'I will not attempt to deceive you--I should accuse myself, were I to preserve any sentiment, however delicate its nature, that might tend to remove your present illusion. It is, I confess, with extreme reluctance--with real pain'--I trembled--my voice faultered, and I felt my colour vary--'that I constrain myself to acknowledge a hopeless, an extravagant'--I stopped, unable to proceed. Fire flashed from his eyes, he started from his seat, and took two or three hasty strides across the room. 'I understand you, but too well--Augustus Harley shall dispute with me a prize'-- 'Stop, Sir, be not unjust--make not an ungenerous return to the confidence I have reposed in you. Respect the violence which, on your account, I have done to my own feelings. I own, that I have not been able to defend my heart against the accomplishments and high qualities of Mr Harley--I respected his virtues and attainments, and, by a too easy transition--at length--_loved his person_. But my tenderness is a secret to all the world but yourself--It has not met with'--a burning blush suffused my cheek--'It has little hope of meeting, a return. To your _honor_ I have confided this cherished _secret_--dare you betray my confidence? I know, you dare not!'