Indeed, my dearest life, you carry this matter too far. What will the
people below, who suppose us one as to the ceremony, think of so great a
niceness? Liberties so innocent! the occasion so accidental!--You will
expose yourself as well as me.--Hitherto they know nothing of what has
passed. And what indeed has passed to occasion all this resentment?--I
am sure you will not, by a breach of your word of honour, give me reason
to conclude that, had I not obeyed you, I could have fared no worse.
Most sincerely do I repent the offence given to your delicacy--But must
I, for so accidental an occurrence, be branded by such shocking names?--
Vilest of men, and most detestable of plotters, are hard words!--From the
pen of such a lady too.
If you step up another pair of stairs, you will be convinced, that,
however detestable I may be to you, I am no plotter in this affair.
I must insist upon seeing you, in order to take your directions upon some
of the subjects we talked of yesterday in the evening.
All that is more than necessary is too much. I claim your promised
pardon, and wish to plead it on my knees.
I beg your presence in the dining-room for one quarter of an hour, and I
will then leave you for the day, I am,
My dearest life,
Your ever adoring and truly penitent
LOVELACE.
***