rather, sure, that you have a mind to try another, than that any dislike of yours makes you turn it over to me; but be it as it will, I am contented to stand to the loss, and perhaps when you have changed you will find so little difference that you’ll be calling for your own again.  Do but assure me that I shall find you almost as merry as my Lady Anne Wentworth is always, and nothing shall fright me from my purpose of seeing you as soon as I can with any conveniency.  I would not have you insensible of our misfortunes, but I would not either that you should revenge them on yourself; no, that shows a want of constancy (which you will hardly yield to be your fault); but ’tis certain that there was never anything more mistaken than the Roman courage, when they killed themselves to avoid misfortunes that were infinitely worse than death.  You confess ’tis an age since our story began, as is not fit for me to own.  Is it not likely, then, that if my face had ever been good, it might be altered since then; or is it as unfit for me to own the change as the time that makes it?  Be it as you please, I am not enough concerned in’t to dispute it with you; for, trust me, if you would not have my face better, I am satisfied it should be as it is; since if ever I wished it otherwise, ’twas for your sake.

I know not how I stumbled upon a news-book this week, and, for want of something else to do read it; it mentions my Lord Lisle’s embassage again.  Is there any such thing towards?  I met with somebody else too in’t that may concern anybody that has a mind to marry; ’tis a new form for it, that, sure, will fright the country people extremely, for they apprehend nothing like going before a Justice; they say no other marriage shall stand good in law.  In conscience, I believe the old one is the better; and for my part I am resolved to stay till that comes in fashion again.

Can your father have so perfectly forgiven already the injury I did him (since you will not allow it to be any to you), in hindering you of Mrs. Chambers, as to remember me with kindness?  ’Tis most certain that I am obliged to him, and, in earnest, if I could hope it might ever be in my power to serve him I would promise something for myself.  But is it not true, too, that you have represented me to him rather as you imagine me than as I am; and have you not given him an expectation that I shall never be able to satisfy?  If you have, I can forgive you, because I know you meant well in’t; but I have known some women that have commended others merely out of spite, and if I were malicious enough to envy anybody’s beauty, I would cry it up to all that had not seen them; there’s no such way to make anybody appear less handsome than they are.