A.M.
And Isabel read this letter, and placed it at her heart, and felt less miserable than she had done for months; for, though she wept, there was sweetness in the tears which the assurance of his love and the tenderness of his remonstrance had called forth.

She met him: how could she refuse?
and the struggle was past.

Though not "convinced" she was "persuaded;" for her heart, which refused his reasonings, melted at his reproaches and his grief.

But she would not consent to unite her fate with him at once, for the evils of that step to his interests were immediate and near; she was only persuaded to permit their correspondence and occasional meetings, in which, however imprudent they might be for herself, the disadvantages to her lover were distant and remote.

It was of him only that she thought; for him she trembled; for him she was the coward and the woman; for herself she had no fears, and no forethought.
And Algernon was worthy of this devoted love, and returned it as it was given.