upon to decide for herself, and that too in the most important incident of it. Deeply and seriously did she reflect on the decision she should make.
"I cannot," she at length said to herself, "accept of Douglas; every idea that suggests itself to me only confirms me in the opinion that I cannot be his; were I to waive them, I should act inconsistently with every principle of virtue. To join myself in close association with one whom all the good and sensible censure as a libertine! Far be it from thee, Rosilia, to prove thyself so unthinking and giddy a creature! I cannot be his. And if, indeed, I had not these weighty objections, could I bestow my hand at such a moment as the present, when my father is about to part with his Villa, and break up his establishment? Might not my leaving him be construed into mercenary and selfish motives? might it not be supposed that I was impatient to fly from the ruin awaiting us?" She paused; and, after a short interval of hesitation, continued with a sigh: "These scruples; alas, these scruples! I would reject them had Douglas a virtuous mind, had he a character I could depend upon, could I freely and unreservedly bestow upon him my esteem and confidence."
The whole of Rosilia's proceedings had been uninfluenced by her parents, notwithstanding they
