Yes, my dear Bell, you know me better than I know myself; your Emily loves.--But tell me, and with that clear sincerity which is the cement of our friendship; has not your own heart discovered to you the secret of mine? do you not also love this most amiable of mankind? Yes, you do, and I am lost: it is not in woman to see him without love; there are a thousand charms in his conversation, in his look, nay in the very sound of his voice, to which it is impossible for a soul like yours to be insensible. I have observed you a thousand times listening to him with that air of softness and complacency--Believe me, my dear, I am not angry with you for loving him; he is formed to charm the heart of woman: I have not the least right to complain of you; you knew nothing of my passion for him; you even regarded me almost as the wife of another. But tell me, though my heart dies within me at the question, is your tenderness mutual? does he love you? I have observed a coldness in his manner lately, which now alarms me.--My heart is torn in pieces. Must I receive this wound from the two persons on earth most dear to me? Indeed, my dear, this is more than your Emily can bear. Tell me only whether you love: I will not ask more.--Is there on earth a man who can please where he appears? LETTER 76. To Miss Montague. You have discovered me, my sweet Emily: I love--not quite so dyingly as you do; but I love; will you forgive me when I add that I am beloved? It is unnecessary to add the name of him I love, as you have so kindly appropriated the whole sex to Colonel Rivers. However, to shew you it is possible you may be mistaken, 'tis the little Fitz I love, who, in my eye, is ten times more agreable than even your nonpareil of a Colonel; I know you will think me a shocking wretch for this depravity of taste; but so it is. Upon my word, I am half inclined to be angry with you for not being in love with Fitzgerald; a tall Irishman, with good eyes, has as clear a title to make conquests as other people. Yes, my dear, _there is a man on earth_, and even in the little town of Quebec, _who can please where he appears_. Surely, child, if there was but one man on earth who could please, you would not be so unreasonable as to engross him all to yourself. For my part, though I like Fitzgerald extremely, I by no means insist that every other woman shall. Go, you are a foolish girl, and don't know what you would be at. Rivers is a very handsome agreable fellow; but _it is in woman_ to see him without dying for love, of which behold your little Bell an example. Adieu! be wiser, and believe me Ever yours, A. Fermor. Will you go this morning to Montmorenci on the ice, and dine on the island of Orleans? dare you trust yourself in a covered carriole with the dear man? Don't answer this, because I am certain you can say nothing on the subject, which will not be very foolish. LETTER 77. To Miss Fermor.