More and more sick of my batchelor notions!—­Yet I aver, that state should be my choice, rather than swallow one grain of indifference in the matrimonial pill, gilder’d over ever so nicely.—­Think what must be my friendship for Darcey, to tear myself from this engageing circle before nine!—­As I was taking my leave, Lady Mary stepp’d towards me.—­To-morrow, Mr. Molesworth, said her Ladyship, I bespeak the favour of your company and Lord Darcey’s to dine with me in Pall-Mall:—­I bow’d, and answer’d both for his Lordship and myself.

We shall rejoice, continued she, to congratulate your friend on his recovery,—­looking with peculiar meaning at Miss Powis.—­I think by that look there will be an interview between the lovers, though I did not say so much to Darcey.—­He requires sleep:  none would he have had, if he knew my surmises.—­I’ll to bed, and dream of Lady Elizabeth;—­so good night, Dick.

Twelve o’clock at noon.

Mr. and Mrs. Powis this moment gone;—­Lord Darcey dressing to meet them in Pall-Mall.—­Yes, they are to be there;—­and the whole groupe of beauties are to be there;—­Miss Powis,—­Lady Elizabeth,—­Lady Sophia,—­and the little sprightly hawk-eyed Delves.—­Risby, you know nothing of life; you are dead and buried.

I will try to be serious.—­Impossible! my head runs round and round with pleasure.—­The interview was affecting to the last degree.—­Between whom?—­Why Darcey, Mr. and Mrs.—­faith I can write no more.

MOLESWORTH.

LETTER XLII.

The Hon. GEORGE MOLESWORTH to the same.

London

The day of days is over!

I am too happy to sleep:—­exquisite felicity wants not the common supports of nature.—­In such scenes as I have witness’d, the soul begins to know herself:—­she gives us a peep into futurity:—­the enjoyments of this day has been all her own.

Once more I regain the beaten path of narrative.

Suppose me then under the hands of hair-dressers, valets, &c. &c. &c.  I hate those fellows about me:—­but the singularity of this visit made me undergo their tortures with tolerable patience.—­Now was the time when Vanity, under pretence of respect, love, and decorum, usher’d in her implements.

It was about two when we were set down at Lady Mary Sutton’s.—­Darcey trembled, and look’d so pale at coming out of his chair, that I desir’d a servant to shew us to a room, where we might be alone ’till Mr. Powis was inform’d of our being in the house.—­He instantly came with Lady Mary.—­Tender welcomes and affectionate caresses fill’d him with new life.—­Her Ladyship propos’d he should first see Miss Powis in her dressing-room;—­that none should be present but Mr. and Mrs. Powis, her Ladyship, and your humble servant.

Judge how agreeable this must be to his Lordship, whose extreme weakness consider’d, could not have supported this interview before so much company as were assembled in the drawing-room.