O my dear! there yet lies the letter, just as I left it!
Does he think he is so sure of me?--Perhaps he imagines that I dare not
alter my purpose. I wish I had never known him! I begin now to see this
rashness in the light every one else would have seen it in, had I been
guilty of it. But what can I do, if he come to-day at the appointed
time! If he receive not the letter, I must see him, or he will think
something has befallen me; and certainly will come to the house. As
certainly he will be insulted. And what, in that case, may be the
consequence! Then I as good as promised that I would take the first
opportunity to see him, if I change my mind, and to give him my reasons
for it. I have no doubt but he will be out of humour upon it: but
better, if we meet, that he should go away dissatisfied with me, than
that I should go away dissatisfied with myself.
Yet, short as the time is, he may still perhaps send, and get the
letter. Something may have happened to prevent him, which when known
will excuse him.
After I have disappointed him more than once before, on a requested
interview only, it is impossible he should not have a curiosity at
least, to know if something has not happened; and whether my mind hold
or not in this more important case. And yet, as I rashly confirmed my
resolution by a second letter, I begin now to doubt it.