University of Virginia Library

I have just received a letter from the unhappy Henry! I will confess
to you, that, in spite of my just anger against him, it has moved me
profoundly. He repents of his conduct with the liveliest contrition,
does you merited justice, and is in fine under such deep affliction that
he has awakened my pity and sympathy in his behalf. He says he
cannot leave Portland until he has first received from your mouth that
pardon which is now the only object of his desires. He rightly conceives
that you will not wish to see him; but, notwithstanding, if to
give him some degree of repose, a single word of yours would suffice,
which, perhaps, he merits by his expiation, would you obstinately refuse
it?

I do not advise you, my daughter.—You have too much judgment
and prudence not to know precisely what is necessary in a juncture so
delicate. Consult your own sense of what is right. But think, that
upon your determination will hang, perhaps, the moral cure of that
poor youth who, if he cannot be to me the source of the felicity I had
hoped for, may not be to me so bitter a cause of affliction. Who can
tell? that this interview may not be a prelude to a reconciliation!
Pardon me, Miss Lintot my unreasonable hope may appear to you
ridiculous; but it is that of a father who loves you tenderly and who
prays for the privilege of being able to love him with you.

I confide in your heart, my daughter!