Whilst regaling ourselves at the tea table, Mr. Morgan was in the dining-parlour, brightening up his features by the assitance of the cook and butler.—­We were congratulating each other on the difference of our present and late situation, declaring there was nothing to regret, when Mr. Morgan enter’d.—­Regret! cry’d he,—­what do you regret?—­Not, I hope, that I have made a good dinner on a cold sirloin and pickled oysters?—­Indeed I do, said Lady Powis:—­Had I thought you so poor a caterer, I should have taken the office on myself.—­Faith then, reply’d he, you might have eat it yourself:—­Forty years, my good Lady, I have made this house my home, and did I ever suffer you to direct what, or when, I should eat?—­

Sir James laugh’d aloud; so did her Ladyship:—­I was inclin’d to do the same,—­but afraid what next he would say;—­However, this caution did not screen me from particular notice.

What the duce have I here! said he, taking one of my hands,—­a snow-ball by the colour, and feeling? and down he dropp’d it by the side of Lord Darcey’s, which rested on the table.

I was never more confounded.

You are not angry, my pretty Lady, continued he:—­we shall know one another better;—­but if you displease me,—­I shall thunder.—­I keep all in subjection, except the muleish kind, making a low bow to Sir James.  Saying this, he went in pursuit of Mr. Watson.—­They soon re-enter’d together; a card-table was produc’d; and we sat down at it, whilst they solac’d themselves by a good fire.

My attention was frequently taken from the cards, to observe how it was possible such opposites as Mr. Watson and Mr. Morgan cou’d be entertain’d by one another’s conversation.—­Never saw I any two seemingly more happy!—­The chearfulness of the former augmented;—­the voice of the latter at least three notes lower.—­This has been since explain’d to me by Lady Powis.—­Mr. Morgan, she says, notwithstanding his rough appearance, is of a nature so compassionate, that, to people defective in person or fortune, he is the gentlest creature breathing.

Our party broke up at nine.—­I sat half an hour after supper, then propos’d returning to Mr. Jenkings’s.—­Lady Powis would not hear me on this subject—­I must stay that night at the Abbey:—­venturing out such weather would hazard my health.—­So said Sir James; so said Lord Darcey.—­As for Mr. Morgan, he swore, Was he the former, his horses should not stir out for fifty pieces, unless, said he, Sir James chooses to be a fellow-sufferer with Lord Allen, who I have led such a chace this day, that he was forced to leave poor Snip on the forest.—­Saying which, he threw himself back in the chair, and fell into a sound sleep.—­About eleven I retir’d to my chamber;—­a message first being sent to Mr. Jenkings.—­Instead of going immediately to bed, I sat down and indulg’d myself with the satisfaction of writing to my beloved Lady Mary.—­This morning I got up early to finish my packet; and though I have spent half an hour with Mr. Jenkings, shall close it before her Ladyship is stirring.