figure he makes of Prue in "Esmond." It is, says the nineteenth-century
humourist, in defence against the pursuit of a jealous, exacting,
neglected, or evaded wife that poor Dick Steele sends those little notes
of excuse: "Dearest Being on earth, pardon me if you do not see me till
eleven o'clock, having met a schoolfellow from India"; "My dear, dear
wife, I write to let you know I do not come home to dinner, being obliged
to attend some business abroad, of which I shall give you an account
(when I see you in the evening), as becomes your dutiful and obedient
husband"; "Dear Prue, I cannot come home to dinner. I languish for your
welfare"; "I stay here in order to get Tonson to discount a bill for me,
and shall dine with him to that end"; and so forth. Once only does
Steele really afford the recent humourist the suggestion that is
apparently always so welcome. It is when he writes that he is invited to
supper to Mr. Boyle's, and adds: "Dear Prue, do not send after me, for I
shall be ridiculous." But even this is to be read not ungracefully by a
well-graced reader. Prue was young and unused to the world. Her
husband, by the way, had been already married; and his greater age makes
his constant deference all the more charming.

But with this one exception, Steele's little notes, kept by his wife
while she lived, and treasured after her death by her daughter and his,
are no record of the watchings and dodgings of a London farce. It is
worth while to remember that Steele's dinner, which it was so often
difficult to eat at home, was a thing of midday, and therefore of mid-
business. But that is a detail. What is desirable is that a reasonable
degree of sweetness should be attributed to Prue; for it is no more than
just. To her Steele wrote in a dedication: "How often has your
tenderness removed pain from my aching head, how often anguish from my
afflicted heart. If there are such beings as guardian angels, they are
thus employed. I cannot believe one of them to be more good in