Cousin Lovelace,

I think you might have found time to let us know of your nuptials being actually solemnized.  I might have expected this piece of civility from you.  But perhaps the ceremony was performed at the very time that you asked me to be your lady’s father—­but I should be angry if I proceed in my guesses—­and little said is soon amended.

But I can tell you, that Lady Betty Lawrance, whatever Lady Sarah does, will not so soon forgive you, as I have done.  Women resent slights longer than men.  You that know so much of the sex (I speak it not, however, to your praise) might have known that.  But never was you before acquainted with a lady of such an amiable character.  I hope there will be but one soul between you.  I have before now said, that I will disinherit you, and settle all I can upon her, if you prove not a good husband to her.

May this marriage be crowned with a great many fine boys (I desire no girls) to build up again a family so antient!  The first boy shall take my surname by act of parliament.  That is my will.

Lady Betty and niece Charlotte will be in town about business before you know where you are.  They long to pay their compliments to your fair bride.  I suppose you will hardly be at The Lawn when they get to town; because Greme informs me, you have sent no orders there for your lady’s accommodation.

Pritchard has all things in readiness for signing.  I will take no advantage of your slights.  Indeed I am too much used to them—­more praise to my patience than to your complaisance, however.

One reason for Lady Betty’s going up, as I may tell you under the rose, is, to buy some suitable presents for Lady Sarah and all of us to make on this agreeable occasion.

We would have blazed it away, could we have had timely notice, and thought it would have been agreeable to all round.  The like occasions don’t happen every day.

My most affectionate compliments and congratulations to my new niece, conclude me, for the present, in violent pain, that with all your heroicalness would make you mad,

Your truly affectionate uncle,
M.

***

This letter clench’d the nail.  Not but that, Miss Rawlins said, she saw I had been a wild gentleman; and, truly she thought so the moment she beheld me.

They began to intercede for my spouse, (so nicely had I turned the tables;) and that I would not go abroad and disappoint a reconciliation so much wished for on one side, and such desirable prospects on the other in my own family.

Who knows, thought I to myself, but more may come of this plot, than I had even promised myself?  What a happy man shall I be, if these women can be brought to join to carry my marriage into consummation!