Upon my honour.  Lord Allen, I have never made proposals to any woman; and further, it is a matter of doubt, whether I ever shall.

By this time I had lost all my colour;—­charming cool—­and calm,—­no perturbation remaining.

Nothing disagreeable now hung on my mind, except a certain thoughtfulness, occasion’d by the recollection of my folly.—­

Miss Winter’s eyes sparkled, if it is possible for grey ones to sparkle, at the declaration Lord Darcey had just made; and, of a sudden, growing very fond of me, laid her hand on mine, speaking as it were aside,—­Well, I was never more surprized!  I as much believed him engaged to a certain young Lady,—­squeezing my thumb,—­as I think I am living.—­Nay, I would not have credited the contrary, had I not heard him declare off with my own ears.—­I see how it is; Sir James must chuse a wife for him.—­

To all which I only answered, Lord Darcey, Madam, is certainly the best judge of his actions:—­I make no doubt but Sir James will approve his Lordship’s choice.

After what I have related, common subjects ensued:—­the cloth being removed, I withdrew to the Library, intending to sit with Mr. Watson half an hour, who was confined by a cold.  He holds out his hand to take mine the moment he hears my footstep.—­I look on him as an angel:  his purity, his mildness, his resignation speak him one.—­

Lord Darcey entered as I was about to join the company; however, I staid some minutes, that my quitting the room might not seem on his account.

I am glad you are come, my Lord, said Mr. Watson; sitting with such a poor infirm man has made Miss Warley thoughtful.—­Upon my word, Sir, returned I, it was only the fear of increasing your head-ach that me silent.—­I never was in higher spirits.—­I could sing and dance this very moment.  Well then, dear Miss Warley, cried his Lordship, let me fetch your guitarre.

With all my heart, my Lord; I am quite in tune.—­Taking leave of Mr. Watson, I return’d to the company.—­His Lordship soon followed.  Again repeating his request, in which every person join’d, I sung and play’d several compositions.

Miss Winter was next call’d upon and the guitarre presented to her by Lord Darcey.—­A long time she absolutely refused it; declaring she had not learnt any new music this year.—­What does that signify, Miss Winter? said her mother; you know you have a sweet voice.

Bless me!  Madam! how can you say so?—­To be sure, I should sing to great advantage now.

Well, Nancy, you’ll oblige Papa?—­says the old Gentleman; I know you’ll oblige Papa,—­stalking over to her on the tops of his toes.

Here the contest ended; Miss taking the guitarre, condescended to oblige her Papa.

She really sings and plays well:—­if her manner had been less affected, we should have been more entertain’d.—­The company staid supper, after which Lord Darcey came with me home.—­I made no objection:—­of all things, I would make none—­after what pass’d at table.  Fortunate event! how I rejoice in my recovered tranquillity!