The next day Mary M'Alister, in a note full of the most odious good
sense and sarcasm, reminded me of our agreement; said that she was quite
convinced that we were not by any means fitted for one another, and
begged me to consider myself henceforth quite free. The little wretch
had the impertinence to send me a dozen boxes of cigars, which, she
said, would console me for my lost love; as she was perfectly certain
that I was not mercenary, and that I loved tobacco better than any woman
in the world.

I believe she was right, though I have never to this day been able to
pardon the scoundrelly stratagem by which Dawdley robbed me of a wife
and won one himself. As I was lying on his sofa, looking at the moon and
lost in a thousand happy contemplations, Lord Dawdley, returning
from the tailor's, saw me smoking at my leisure. On entering his
dressing-room, a horrible treacherous thought struck him. "I must not
betray my friend," said he; "but in love all is fair, and he shall
betray himself." There were my tartans, my cursed feathers, my
tiger-skin sporran, upon the sofa.

He called up my groom; he made the rascal put on all my clothes, and,
giving him a guinea and four cigars, bade him lock himself into the
little pantry and smoke them WITHOUT TAKING THE CLOTHES OFF. John did
so, and was very ill in consequence, and so when I came to B---- House,
my clothes were redolent of tobacco, and I lost lovely Mary M'Alister.

I am godfather to one of Lady Dawdley's boys, and hers is the only house
where I am allowed to smoke unmolested; but I have never been able to
admire Dawdley, a sly, sournois, spiritless, lily-livered fellow, that
took his name off all his clubs the year he married.