right to say he does not?

His return from Boston was but a day or two after mine. He paid me an
early visit, and, indeed, has been very attentive ever since. My mamma
is somewhat precise in her notions of propriety, and, of course, blames
me for associating so freely with him. She says that my engagements to
Mr. Boyer ought to render me more sedate, and more indifferent to the
gallantry of mere pleasure _hunters_, to use her phrase. But I think
otherwise. If I am to become a recluse, let me at least enjoy those
amusements which are suited to my taste a short time first. Why should I
refuse the polite attentions of this gentleman? They smooth the rugged
path of life, and wonderfully accelerate the lagging wheels of time.

Indeed, Lucy, he has an admirable talent for contributing to vary and
increase amusement. We have few hours unimproved. Some new plan of
pleasure and sociability is constantly courting our adoption. He lives
in all the magnificence of a prince: and why should I, who can doubtless
share that magnificence if I please, forego the advantages and
indulgences it offers, merely to gratify those friends who pretend to
be better judges of my happiness than I am myself? I have not yet told
my mamma that he entertains me with the lover's theme, or, at least,
that I listen to it. Yet I must own to you, from whom I have never
concealed an action or idea, that his situation in life charms my
imagination; that the apparent fervor and sincerity of his passion
affect my heart. Yet there is something extremely problematical in his
conduct. He is very urgent with me to dissolve my connection with Mr.
Boyer, and engage not to marry him without his consent, or knowledge, to
say no more. He warmly applauds my wish still longer to enjoy the
freedom and independence of a single state, and professedly adopts it
for his own. While he would disconnect me from another, he mysteriously