ABSTRACT

Mr. Charles Seymour lost not a moment in paying his respects to Julia, upon her arrival in town; expressed the most lively pleasure at seeing her; expatiated on the encreased bloom of her complexion; spoke in his lowest tone, and assumed his most finished mode of address. Julia, at length, quite fatigued with softness, and oppressed with panegyric, 5 told him, ‘that she was obliged to go out;’ finding that, like most other dull people, he was subject to the error of making long visits; and was, at present, too much engrossed by the care of acting his part gracefully, to remark her extreme weariness of his performance. He intreated to have the honor of attending her where she was going; and they walked to her milliner’s, 6 where caps and ribbons seemed to sharpen his wit, and furnish him with new modes of compliment; and where he waited with great resignation, while she purchased several articles of dress. No set of people are so patient as the interested. They drudge on indefatigably in the same circle, and with one uniform pace, as quietly as a horse in a mill, contentedly expecting the end of their labours. Julia could at last only get rid of Mr. Charles Seymour’s attendance, by calling on Charlotte, at whose door he took his leave; filled with self-complacency at the progress he was convinced he had that morning made in her favor; but at the same time recollecting, that the extraordinary trouble he was now obliged to take, was owing to his former entire neglect of the lady; and marking it, as one of his future maxims, that a young woman, who has a rich uncle in the East Indies, although she has no fortune herself, is to be treated with gallantry. In the mean time, he reconciled himself to his past conduct, by reflecting, that there are some events, which no prudence can foresee; and some errors, which experience only can correct.