“Determined upon!--Oh dear, no, my darling. You shall decide every thing for yourself.” “Thank you, mother; now you are kind indeed.” “Indubitably, my dearest Amelia, I would not decide on any thing without consulting you: for I have the greatest dependence on your prudence and judgment. With a silly romantic girl, who had no discretion, I should certainly think it my duty to do otherwise; and if I saw my daughter following headlong some idle fancy of fifteen, I should interpose my authority at once, and say, It must not be. But I know my Amelia so well, that I am confident she will judge as prudently for herself as I could for her; and indeed, I am persuaded that our opinions will be now, as they almost always are, my sweet girl, the same.” “I hope so mamma--but----” “Well, well, I’ll allow a maidenly _but_--and you will allow that Sir John Hunter shall be the man at last.” “Oh, mamma, that can never be,” said Amelia, with much earnestness. “_Never_--A young lady’s _never_, Amelia, I will allow too. Don’t interrupt me, my dear--but give me leave to tell you again, that you shall have your own time--Mr. Palmer has given his consent and approbation.” “Consent and approbation!” cried Amelia. “And is it come to this? without even consulting me! And is this the way I am left to judge for myself?--Oh, mother! mother! what will become of me?” Amelia, who had long had experience that it was vain for her to attempt to counteract or oppose any scheme that her mother had planned, sat down at this instant in despair: but even from despair she took courage; and, rising suddenly, exclaimed, “I never can or will marry Sir John Hunter--for I love another person--mother, you know I do--and I will speak truth, and abide by it, let the consequences be what they may.” “Well, my dear, don’t speak so loud, at all events; for though it may be very proper to speak the truth, it is not necessary that the whole universe should hear it. You speak of another attachment--is it possible that you allude to Captain Walsingham? But Captain Walsingham has never proposed for you, nor even given you any reason to think he would; or if he has, he must have deceived me in the grossest manner.” “He is incapable of deceiving any body,” said Amelia. “He never gave me any reason to think he would propose for me; nor ever made the slightest attempt to engage my affections. You saw his conduct: it was always uniform. He is incapable of any double or underhand practices.” “In the warmth of your eulogium on Captain Walsingham, you seem, Amelia, to forget that you reflect, in the most severe manner, upon yourself: for what woman, what young woman especially, who has either delicacy, pride, or prudence, can avow that she loves a man, who has never given, even by her own statement of the matter, the slightest reason to believe that he thinks of her?”