relative of that lady, Miss Milbanke. Though his proposal was not then
accepted, every assurance of friendship and regard accompanied the
refusal; a wish was even expressed that they should continue to write to
each other, and a correspondence, in consequence,--somewhat singular
between two young persons of different sexes, inasmuch as love was not
the subject of it,--ensued between them. We have seen how highly Lord
Byron estimated as well the virtues as the accomplishments of the young
lady; but it is evident that on neither side, at this period, was love
either felt or professed.[117]

In the mean time, new entanglements, in which his heart was the willing
dupe of his fancy and vanity, came to engross the young poet: and still,
as the usual penalties of such pursuits followed, he again found himself
sighing for the sober yoke of wedlock, as some security against their
recurrence. There were, indeed, in the interval between Miss Milbanke's
refusal and acceptance of him, two or three other young women of rank
who, at different times, formed the subject of his matrimonial dreams.
In the society of one of these, whose family had long honoured me with
their friendship, he and I passed much of our time, during this and the
preceding spring; and it will be found that, in a subsequent part of his
correspondence, he represents me as having entertained an anxious wish
that he should so far cultivate my fair friend's favour as to give a
chance, at least, of matrimony being the result.

That I, more than once, expressed some such feeling is undoubtedly true.
Fully concurring with the opinion, not only of himself, but of others of
his friends, that in marriage lay his only chance of salvation from the
sort of perplexing attachments into which he was now constantly tempted,
I saw in none of those whom he admired with more legitimate views so
many requisites for the difficult task of winning him into fidelity and