what her character is meant to be, that her heart was affectionate;
her disposition cheerful and open, without conceit or affectation
of any kind -- her manners just removed from the awkwardness and
shyness of a girl; her person pleasing, and, when in good looks,
pretty -- and her mind about as ignorant and uninformed as the
female mind at seventeen usually is.

When the hour of departure drew near, the maternal anxiety of Mrs.
Morland will be naturally supposed to be most severe. A thousand
alarming presentiments of evil to her beloved Catherine from this
terrific separation must oppress her heart with sadness, and drown
her in tears for the last day or two of their being together; and
advice of the most important and applicable nature must of course
flow from her wise lips in their parting conference in her closet.
Cautions against the violence of such noblemen and baronets as
delight in forcing young ladies away to some remote farm-house,
must, at such a moment, relieve the fulness of her heart. Who
would not think so? But Mrs. Morland knew so little of lords
and baronets, that she entertained no notion of their general
mischievousness, and was wholly unsuspicious of danger to
her daughter from their machinations. Her cautions were confined
to the following points. "I beg, Catherine, you will always wrap
yourself up very warm about the throat, when you come from the
rooms at night; and I wish you would try to keep some account of
the money you spend; I will give you this little book on purpose. "

Sally, or rather Sarah (for what young lady of common gentility
will reach the age of sixteen without altering her name as far as
she can?), must from situation be at this time the intimate friend
and confidante of her sister. It is remarkable, however, that she