knows I am not over ready to oblige him with my company, if I happen
to be otherwise engaged. I could not help an air a little upon the
fretful, when I found she had nothing of moment to say to me, and when
I saw her intention.

She smiled off the visible fretfulness, that the man might go away in
good humour with himself.

He bowed to the ground, and would have taken my hand, his whip in the
other. I did not like to be so companioned: I withdrew my hand, but
touched his elbow with a motion, as if from his low bow I had supposed
him falling, and would have helped him up--A sad slip, it might have
been! said I.

A mad girl! smiled it off my mother.

He was quite put out; took his horse-bridle, stumped back, back, back,
bowing, till he run against his servant. I laughed. He mounted his
horse. I mounted up stairs, after a little lecture; and my head is so
filled with him, that I must resume my intention, in hopes to divert
you for a few moments.

Take it then--his best, and his worst, as I said before.

Hickman is a sort of fiddling, busy, yet, to borrow a word from you,
unbusy man: has a great deal to do, and seems to me to dispatch
nothing. Irresolute and changeable in every thing, but in teasing me
with his nonsense; which yet, it is evident, he must continue upon my
mother's interest more than upon his own hopes; for none have I given
him.