There is something, Miss Warley, which gives you particular
satisfaction.

You are right, my Lord, I never was better pleas'd.

Then it is from Lady Mary?

_No_, not from Lady Mary.

From Mrs. Smith, _then?_--Do I guess _now?_--You say nothing; oh, there
it is.--I could not forbear smiling.

Pray tell me, only _tell me_, and he caught one of my hands, if this
letter does not fix the _very_ day of your setting out for France?

I thought him possest with the spirit of divination.--What could I do,
in this case?--Falshoods I despise;--evasions are low, _very_ low,
indeed:--yet I knew he ought not to be trusted with the contents, even
at the expence of my veracity--I recollected myself, and looked grave.

My Lord, you must excuse me; this affair concerns only myself; even Lady
Powis will not be acquainted with it yet.

I have done, if Lady Powis is not to be acquainted with it.--I have no
right--I say _right_.--Don't look so, Miss Warley--_believe I did flare
a little_--Time will unfold,--will cast a different light on things from
that in which you now see them.

I was confus'd;--I put up my letter, went to the window, took a book
from thence, and open'd it, without knowing what I did.