_Dorilaus continues his importunities, with some unexpected consequences
that attended them_.
Poor Louisa concealed the distraction she was in as much as possible she
could from the maid, who immediately came into the room on Dorilaus
having quitted it, and suffered her to undress, and put her to bed as
usual; but was no sooner there, than instead of composing herself to
sleep, she began to reflect on what he had said:--the words, _that there
was no answering for the consequences of a passion such as his_, gave
her the most terrible idea.--His actions too, this night, seem'd to
threaten her with all a virgin had to fear.--She knew him a man of
honour, but thought she had too much reason to suspect that if she
persisted in refusing to be his wife, that passion which had influenced
him, contrary to his character, to make her such an offer, would also be
too potent for any consideration of her to restrain him from proceeding
to extremities. Having debated every thing within her own mind, she
thought she ought not to continue a day longer in the power of a man who
loved her to this extravagant degree: where to go indeed she knew
not;--she had no friend, or even acquaintance, to whom she might repair,
or hope to be received.--How should she support herself then?--which way
procure even the most common necessaries of life?--This was a dreadful
prospect! yet appeared less so than that she would avoid: even starving
lost its horrors when compared either to being compelled to wed a man
whom she could not affect as a husband, or, by refusing him, run the
risque of forfeiting her honour.--She therefore hesitated but a small
time, and having once formed the resolution of quitting Dorilaus's
house, immediately set about putting it into execution.
In the first place, not to be ungrateful to him as a benefactor, she sat
down and wrote the following letter to be left for him on her table: