Once more, suppose me to be my charmer.—­Now you are to encounter my examining eye, and my doubting heart—­

That’s my dear!

Study that air in the pier-glass!—­

Charmingly!—­Perfectly right!

Your honours, now, devils!—­

Pretty well, Cousin Charlotte, for a young country lady!  Till form yields to familiarity, you may courtesy low.  You must not be supposed to have forgot your boarding-school airs.

But too low, too low Lady Betty, for your years and your quality.  The common fault of your sex will be your danger:  aiming to be young too long!—­The devil’s in you all, when you judge of yourselves by your wishes, and by your vanity!  Fifty, in that case, is never more than fifteen.

Graceful ease, conscious dignity, like that of my charmer, Oh! how hard to hit!

Both together now—­

Charming!—­That’s the air, Lady Betty!—­That’s the cue, Cousin Charlotte, suited to the character of each!—­But, once more, be sure to have a guard upon your eyes.

Never fear, Nephew!—­

Never fear, Cousin.

A dram of Barbadoes each—­

And now we are gone—­

LETTER XI

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, ESQ. 
At Mrs. Sinclair’s, Monday afternoon.

All’s right, as heart can wish!—­In spite of all objection—­in spite of a reluctance next to faintings—­in spite of all foresight, vigilance, suspicion—­once more is the charmer of my soul in her old lodgings!

Now throbs away every pulse!  Now thump, thump, thumps my bounding heart for something!

But I have not time for the particulars of our management.

My beloved is now directing some of her clothes to be packed up—­never more to enter this house!  Nor ever more will she, I dare say, when once again out of it!

Yet not so much as a condition of forgiveness!—­The Harlowe-spirited fair-one will not deserve my mercy!—­She will wait for Miss Howe’s next letter; and then, if she find a difficulty in her new schemes, [Thank her for nothing,]—­will—­will what?  Why even then will take time to consider, whether I am to be forgiven, or for ever rejected.  An indifference that revives in my heart the remembrance of a thousand of the like nature.—­And yet Lady Betty and Miss Montague, [a man would be tempted to think, Jack, that they wish her to provoke my vengeance,] declare, that I ought to be satisfied with such a proud suspension!

They are entirely attached to her.  Whatever she says, is, must be, gospel!  They are guarantees for her return to Hampstead this night.  They are to go back with her.  A supper bespoken by Lady Betty at Mrs. Moore’s.  All the vacant apartments there, by my permission, (for I had engaged them for a month certain,) to be filled with them and their attendants, for a week at least, or till they can prevail upon the dear perverse, as they hope they shall, to restore me to her favour, and to accompany Lady Betty to Oxfordshire.