At night, on going to bed, she renewed the discourse; and pursued the theme she had begun with such success, that she brought Miss Harriot to confess she believed there was no man more deserving to be loved than Mr. Trueworth. 'But, my dear sister,' said she, 'I have no inclination to marry, nor to leave you: I am quite happy as I am, and desire to be no more so.' To which the other replied, that was childish talking; that she would, doubtless, marry some time or other; that she might, perhaps, never have so good an offer, and could not possibly have a better; therefore advised her not to slip the present opportunity; but, whenever Mr. Trueworth should make a declaration of his passion to herself, to receive it in such a manner as should not give him any room to imagine she was utterly averse to his pretensions. Miss Harriot suffered her to ruge her on this point for a considerable time; but at last replied, in a low and hesitating voice, that she would be guided by her friends, who, she was perfectly convinced, had her interest at heart, and knew much better than herself what conduct she ought to observe. To which Mrs. Wellair replied, that she doubted not but the end would abundantly justify the advice that had been given her. The first thing this lady did in the morning, was to go to her brother's chamber, and acquaint him with all that had passed between herself and Miss Harriot; after which they agreed together, that Mr. Trueworth should have an opportunity that very day of making his addresses to her. Though Sir Bazil thought it needless to add any thing to what was already done, yet he could not forbear taking an occasion, when they were at breakfast, to mention Mr. Trueworth's name, and the many good qualities he was possessed of. Mrs. Wellair joined in the praises her brother gave him; but Miss Harriot spoke not a word: on which, 'Are you not of our opinion, sister?' cried he to her. 'Yes, brother,' answered she; 'Mr. Trueworth is certainly a very fine gentleman.'--'How cold is such an expression,' resumed Sir Bazil, 'and even that extorted!'--'You would not, sure, Sir,' said she, a little gaily, 'have me in raptures about him, and speak as if I were in love with him?' 'Indeed, but I would!' cried Sir Bazil; 'and, what is more, would also have you be so: he deserves it from you; and, as you must some time or other be sensible of the tender passion, you cannot do it at more suitable years.'--'I see no necessity,' replied she, 'for my being so at any years.' 'It is a sign, then,' said he, 'that you have not consulted nature. Have you never read what Lord Lansdown has wrote upon this subject? If you have not, I will repeat it to you-- "In vain from Fate we strive to fly; For, first or last, as all must die, So, 'tis decreed by those above, That, first or last, we all must love."'