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Rowson, Mrs., 1762-1824 [1795], Trials of the human heart, volume 1 ('printed for the author, by Wrigley & Berriman', Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf328v1].
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LETTER XVII. MR. RAINSFORTH to MISS HOWARD.

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Shall I not chide you, my dear Mi&longs;s
Howard; &longs;hall I not tell you what I
felt at the reception of your dear unkind letter.
Dear it will ever be to my fond bo&longs;om,
becau&longs;e in the &longs;incerity of your language,
I could read the affection of your heart.
“Smile at your frankne&longs;s;” how could
you think of &longs;uch a thing. No, I adore you
for it, and &longs;urely the man who could de&longs;pi&longs;e
a heart for its &longs;incerity, de&longs;erves not to possess
&longs;o invaluable a ble&longs;&longs;ing. May Mi&longs;s Howard
never learn to di&longs;gui&longs;e feelings which,
cha&longs;tened as they are, by honour and feminine
delicacy, become an honour to the
heart; but &longs;till I mu&longs;t chide. What could
you think, when you &longs;ay, “if the union is
not equally eligible with one, as it would
have been with four thou&longs;and pounds.”
Unkind Meriel, do you &longs;uppo&longs;e millions
could increa&longs;e my love, or could they make

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you more valuable. No, they could not;
therefore, di&longs;po&longs;e of your fortune in any
manner you &longs;hall think fit, give me only
your&longs;elf, and I &longs;hall think I po&longs;&longs;e&longs;s a jewel,
which worlds could not purcha&longs;e.

I am every day expecting orders to join the
fleet. Will you, my dear Mi&longs;s Howard, pardon
my impatience, if I wi&longs;h to call you mine
before the&longs;e orders arrive. I &longs;hall have a
thou&longs;and doubts and fears if I leave you before
we are irrevocably united. Perhaps
&longs;ome one more worthy; Oh! forgive my
&longs;u&longs;picions, but who can love and not fear to
lo&longs;e the object of their fonde&longs;t hopes. Methinks
could I once call you mine, the
thought would in&longs;pire me with courage.
Should I be called into action again&longs;t the enemy
of my country, honour, ambition, thir&longs;t
of fame &longs;hould all give way to love. For
you alone would I fight, for your &longs;ake alone
wi&longs;h to conquer, and your love &longs;hould be
the reward of all my toils.

I will &longs;pend an hour with you to-morrow
evening. Oh! my &longs;weet friend, let your
mild eyes tell me, at meeting, you cannot refuse
the ardent prayer of your ever faithful

FREDERIC RAINSFORTH.

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Rowson, Mrs., 1762-1824 [1795], Trials of the human heart, volume 1 ('printed for the author, by Wrigley & Berriman', Philadelphia) [word count] [eaf328v1].
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