When I went to St. James’s-square, Sir Charles and Lady L——­ were gone in his coach to bring the two ladies.

Lady G——­ met me on the stairs-head, leading into her dressing-room.  Not a word, said she, of the man’s sullens:  He repents:  A fine figure, as I told him, of a bridegroom, would he make in the eyes of foreign ladies, at dinner, were he to retain his gloomy airs.  He has begged my pardon; as good as promised amendment; and I have forgiven him.

Poor Lord G——­, said I.

Hush, hush!  He is within:  he will hear you:  and then perhaps repent of his repentance.

She led me in:  my lord had a glow in his cheeks, and looked as if he had been nettled; and was but just recovering a smile, to help to carry off the petulance.  O how saucily did her eyes look!  Well, my lord, said she, I hope—­But you say, I misunderstood—­No more, madam, no more, I beseech you—­

Well, sir, not a word more, since you are—­

Pray, madam—­

Well, well, give me your hand—­You must leave Harriet and me together.

She humorously courtesied to him as he bowed to me, taking the compliment as to herself.  She nodded her head to him, as he turned back his when he was at the door; and when he was gone, If I can but make this man orderly, said she, I shall not quarrel with my brother for hurrying me, as he has done.

You are wrong, excessively wrong, Charlotte:  you call my lord a silly man, but can have no proof that he is so, but by his bearing this treatment from you.

None of your grave airs, my dear.  The man is a good sort of man, and will be so, if you and Lady L——­ don’t spoil him.  I have a vast deal of roguery, but no ill-nature, in my heart.  There is luxury in jesting with a solemn man, who wants to assume airs of privilege, and thinks he has a right to be impertinent.  I’ll tell you how I will manage—­I believe I shall often try his patience, and when I am conscious that I have gone too far, I will be patient if he is angry with me; so we shall be quits.  Then I’ll begin again:  he will resent:  and if I find his aspect very solemn—­Come, come, no glouting, friend, I will say, and perhaps smile in his face:  I’ll play you a tune, or sing you a song—­Which, which!  Speak in a moment, or the humour will be off.

If he was ready to cry before, he will laugh then, though against his will:  and as he admires my finger, and my voice, shall we not be instantly friends?

It signified nothing to rave at her:  she will have her way.  Poor Lord G——!  At my first knowledge of her, I thought her very lively; but imagined not that she was indiscreetly so.

Lord G——­’s fondness for his saucy bride was, as I have reason to believe, his fault:  I dared not to ask for particulars of their quarrel:  and if I had, and found it so, could not, with such a rallying creature, have entered into his defence, or censured her.

I went down a few moments before her.  Lord G——­ whispered me, that he should be the happiest man in the world, if I, who had such an influence over her, would stand his friend.