Not for a kingdom, fluttering my fan.  I knew not what I did.—­But I could have killed him.

We are so much observed—­else on my knees, my dear Miss Howe, would I beg your interest with your charming friend.

She’ll have nothing to say to you.

(I had not then your letters, my dear.)

Killing words!—­But indeed I have deserved them, and a dagger in my heart besides.  I am so conscious of my demerits, that I have no hope, but in your interposition—­could I owe that favour to Miss Howe’s mediation which I cannot hope for on any other account—­

My mediation, vilest of men!—­My mediation!—­I abhor you!—­From my soul, I abhor you, vilest of men!—­Three or four times I repeated these words, stammering too.—­I was excessively fluttered.

You can tell me nothing, Madam, so bad as I will call myself.  I have been, indeed, the vilest of men; but now I am not so.  Permit me—­every body’s eyes are upon us!—­but one moment’s audience—­to exchange but ten words with you, dearest Miss Howe—­in whose presence you please—­for your dear friend’s sake—­but ten words with you in the next apartment.

It is an insult upon me to presume that I would exchange with you, if I could help it!—­Out of my way!  Out of my sight—­fellow!

And away I would have flung:  but he took my hand.  I was excessively disordered—­every body’s eyes more and more intent upon us.

Mr. Hickman, whom my mother had drawn on one side, to enjoin him a patience, which perhaps needed not to have been enforced, came up just then, with my mother who had him by his leading-strings—­by his sleeve I should say.

Mr. Hickman, said the bold wretch, be my advocate but for ten words in the next apartment with Miss Howe, in your presence; and in your’s, Madam, to my mother.

Hear, Nancy, what he has to say to you.  To get rid of him, hear his ten words.

Excuse me, Madam! his very breath—­Unhand me, Sir!

He sighed and looked—­O how the practised villain sighed and looked!  He then let go my hand, with such a reverence in his manner, as brought blame upon me from some, that I would not hear him.—­And this incensed me the more.  O my dear, this man is a devil!  This man is indeed a devil!—­ So much patience when he pleases!  So much gentleness!—­Yet so resolute, so persisting, so audacious!

I was going out of the assembly in great disorder.  He was at the door as soon as I.

How kind this is, said the wretch; and, ready to follow me, opened the door for me.

I turned back upon this:  and, not knowing what I did, snapped my fan just in his face, as he turned short upon me; and the powder flew from his hair.

Every body seemed as much pleased as I was vexed.

He turned to Mr. Hickman, nettled at the powder flying, and at the smiles of the company upon him; Mr. Hickman, you will be one of the happiest men in the world, because you are a good man, and will do nothing to provoke this passionate lady; and because she has too much good sense to be provoked without reason:  but else the Lord have mercy upon you!