But to return:—­If I have not sufficiently cleared my conduct to thee in the above; I refer thee once more to mine of the 13th of last month.* And pr’ythee, Jack, lay me not under a necessity to repeat the same things so often.  I hope thou readest what I write more than once.

* See Vol.  II.  Letter XIV.

I am not displeased that thou art so apprehensive of my resentment, that I cannot miss a day without making thee uneasy.  Thy conscience, ’tis plain, tells thee, that thou has deserved my displeasure:  and if it has convinced thee of that, it will make thee afraid of repeating thy fault.  See that this be the consequence.  Else, now that thou hast told me how I can punish thee, it is very likely that I do punish thee by my silence, although I have as much pleasure in writing on this charming subject, as thou canst have in reading what I write.

When a boy, if a dog ran away from me through fear, I generally looked about for a stone, or a stick; and if neither offered to my hand, I skinned my hat after him to make him afraid for something.  What signifies power, if we do not exert it?

Let my Lord know, that thou hast scribbled to me.  But give him not the contents of thy epistle.  Though a parcel of crude stuff, he would think there was something in it.  Poor arguments will do, when brought in favour of what we like.  But the stupid peer little thinks that this lady is a rebel to Love.  On the contrary, not only he, but all the world believe her to be a volunteer in his service.—­So I shall incur blame, and she will be pitied, if any thing happen amiss.

Since my Lord’s heart is set upon this match, I have written already to let him know, ’That my unhappy character had given my beloved an ungenerous diffidence of me.  That she is so mother-sick and father-fond, that she had rather return to Harlowe-place than marry.  That she is even apprehensive that the step she has taken of going off with me will make the ladies of a family of such rank and honour as ours think slightly of her.  That therefore I desire his Lordship (though this hint, I tell him, must be very delicately touched) to write me such a letter as I can shew her; (let him treat me in it ever so freely, I shall not take it amiss, I tell him, because I know his Lordship takes pleasure in writing to me in a corrective style).  That he may make what offers he pleases on the marriage.  That I desire his presence at the ceremony; that I may take from his hand the greatest blessing that mortal man can give me.’

I have not absolutely told the lady that I would write to his Lordship to this effect; yet have given her reason to think I will.  So that without the last necessity I shall not produce the answer I expect from him:  for I am very loth, I own, to make use of any of my family’s names for the furthering of my designs.  And yet I must make all secure, before I pull off the mask.  Was not this my motive for bringing her hither?