Lady Anne Wentworth was the daughter of the famous and ill-fated Earl of Strafford.  She married Lord Rockingham.

The reader will remember that “my lady” is Lady Diana Rich.

March 5th [1653].

SIR,—­I know not how to oblige so civil a person as you are more than by giving you the occasion of serving a fair lady.  In sober earnest, I know you will not think it a trouble to let your boy deliver these books and this enclosed letter where it is directed for my lady, whom I would, the fainest in the world, have you acquainted with, that you might judge whether I had not reason to say somebody was to blame.  But had you reason to be displeased that I said a change in you would be much more pardonable than in him?  Certainly you had not.  I spake it very innocently, and out of a great sense how much she deserves more than anybody else.  I shall take heed though hereafter what I write, since you are so good at raising doubts to persecute yourself withal, and shall condemn my own easy faith no more; for me ’tis a better-natured and a less fault to believe too much than to distrust where there is no cause.  If you were not so apt to quarrel, I would tell you that I am glad to hear your journey goes forwarder, but you would presently imagine that ’tis because I would be glad if you were gone; need I say that ’tis because I prefer your interest much before my own, because I would not have you lose so good a diversion and so pleasing an entertainment (as in all likelihood this voyage will be to you), and because the sooner you go, the sooner I may hope for your return.  If it be necessary, I will confess all this, and something more, which is, that notwithstanding all my gallantry and resolution, ’tis much for my credit that my courage is put to no greater a trial than parting with you at this distance.  But you are not going yet neither, and therefore we’ll leave the discourse on’t till then, if you please, for I find no great entertainment in’t.  And let me ask you whether it be possible that Mr. Grey makes love, they say he does, to my Lady Jane Seymour?  If it were expected that one should give a reason for their passions, what could he say for himself?  He would not offer, sure, to make us believe my Lady Jane a lovelier person than my Lady Anne Percy.  I did not think I should have lived to have seen his frozen heart melted, ’tis the greatest conquest she will ever make; may it be happy to her, but in my opinion he has not a good-natured look.  The younger brother was a servant, a great while, to my fair neighbour, but could not be received; and in earnest I could not blame her.  I was his confidante and heard him make his addresses; not that I brag of the favour he did me, for anybody might have been so that had been as often there, and he was less scrupulous in that point than one would have been that had had less reason.  But in my life I never heard a man say more, nor less to the purpose; and if his brother