Lord Darcey held one of Sir James’s hands:  he was in the room when I enter’d; but I declare I never saw him till he spoke.  He is safe now,—­after what happened yesterday,—­safe from any imputation on my account—­

Very kind and very civil, upon my word!  O! your Ladyship never heard such a fuss as he made about the scratch on my arm.—­I affect to look pleased when he speaks to me, that he might not take it into his head I am mortified.

He must be the happiest creature in the world; I honour him for the grateful affection he shews Sir James and Lady Powis.

Breakfast stood on the table:  not a soul had broke their fast.—­Her Ladyship was here, there, and every where.—­I was sadly afraid they would be all sick; at length I prevailed on them to drink a cup of chocolate.—­

Mr. Watson, good man notwithstanding his indisposition, got up at eleven.—­I met him coming from his apartment, and had the pleasure of leading him to the happy family.—­

His congratulations were delivered with such serene joy,—­such warmth of affection,—­as if he had cull’d the heart-felt satisfaction of both parents.

The word happy echoed from every mouth; each sentence began and ended with it.—­What the heart feels is seldom to be disguised.—­Grief will speak,—­if not by the tongue, it will out;—­it hangs on the features, sallows the skin, withers the sinews, and is a galling weight that pulls towards the ground.—­Why should a thought of grief intrude at this time?—­Is not my dear Lady Mary’s health returning?—­Is not felicity restor’d to this family?—­Now will my regret at parting be lessened;—­now shall I leave every individual with minds perfectly at ease.

Mr. Powis is expected in less than a month, intending to embark in the next ship after the Packet.—­How I long to see him!—­But it is very unlikely I should; I shall certainly have taken my leave of this place before he arrives.—­By your Ladyship’s permission, I hope to look in upon them, at our return to England.

What genteel freedoms men give themselves after declaring off, as Miss Winter calls it?—­I had never so many fine things said to me before;—­I can’t tell how many;—­quite a superabundance;—­and before Sir James too!—­But no notice is taken; he has cleared himself of all suspicion.—­He may go to town as soon as he will.—­His business is done;—­yes, he did it yesterday.

I wish I may not laugh out in the midst of his fine speeches.—­

I wish your Ladyship could see this cool attention I give him.—­But I have nettled him to the truth this afternoon:—­his pride was alarm’d;—­it could certainly proceed from no other cause, after he has declared off.

I was sitting at the tea-table, a trouble I always take from Lady Powis, who with Sir James was walking just without the windows, when Lord Darcey open’d the door, and said, advancing towards me with affected airs of admiration,—­How proud should I be to see my house and table so graced!—­Then leaning over the back of my chair, Well, my angel! how is the bad arm?  Come, let me see, attempting to draw off my glove.