to have nothing in my own disposal, do not think I have any hand in
making settlements. People in my way are sold like slaves; and I cannot
tell what price my master will put on me. If you do agree, I shall
endeavour to contribute, as much as lies in my power, to your happiness.
I so heartily despise a great figure, I have no notion of spending money
so foolishly; though one had a great deal to throw away. If this breaks
off, I shall not complain of you: and as, whatever happens, I shall
still preserve the opinion you have behaved yourself well. Let me
entreat you, if I have committed any follies, to forgive them; and be so
just to think I would not do an ill thing."


Shortly afterwards, Lady Mary wrote again to Montagu. "I have tried to
write plainly," she said; and she did not have to reproach herself with
failure. It had now come to a struggle for mastery, and she would not
yield a foot of her ground.


"Indeed I do not at all wonder that absence, and variety of new faces,
should make you forget me; but I am a little surprised at your curiosity
to know what passes in my heart (a thing wholly insignificant to you),
except you propose to yourself a piece of ill-natured satisfaction, in
finding me very much disquieted. Pray which way would you see into my
heart? You can frame no guesses about it from either my speaking or
writing; and, supposing I should attempt to show it you, I know no other
way.

"I begin to be tired of my humility: I have carried my complaisances to
you farther than I ought. You make new scruples; you have a great deal
of fancy; and your distrusts being all of your own making, are more