Lady G. You’d better leave it to me, sir.

Har.  Do, my lord.

Lord G. Well, madam!—­And what is your decree?

Lady G. You, Miss Byron, had best be Lady Chancellor, after all.  I should not bear to have my decree disputed, after it is pronounced.

Har.  If I must, my decree is this:—­You, Lady G——­ shall own yourself in fault; and promise amendment.  My lord shall forgive you; and promise that he will, for the future, endeavour to distinguish between your good and your ill-nature:  that he will sit down to jest with your jest, and never be disturbed at what you say, when he sees it accompanied with that archness of eye and lip which you put on to your brother, and to every one whom you best love, when you are disposed to be teazingly facetious.

Lady G. Why, Harriet, you have given Lord G——­ a clue to find me out, and spoil all my sport.

Har.  What say you, my lord?

Lord G. Will Lady G——­ own herself in fault, as you propose?

Lady G. Odious recrimination!—­I leave you together.  I never was in fault in my life.  Am I not a woman?  If my lord will ask pardon for his froppishness, as we say of children—­

She stopt, and pretended to be going—­

Har.  That my lord shall not do, Charlotte.  You have carried the jest too far already.  My lord shall preserve his dignity for his wife’s sake.  My lord, you will not permit Lady G——­ to leave us, however?

He took her hand, and pressed it with his lips:  for God’s sake, madam, let us be happy:  it is in your power to make us both so:  it ever shall be in your power.  If I have been in fault, impute it to my love.  I cannot bear your contempt; and I never will deserve it.

Lady G. Why could not this have been said some hours ago?—­Why, slighting my early caution, would you expose yourself?

I took her aside.  Be generous, Lady G——.  Let not your husband be the only person to whom you are not so.

Lady G. [Whispering.] Our quarrel has not run half its length.  If we make up here, we shall make up clumsily.  One of the silliest things in the world is, a quarrel that ends not, as a coachman after a journey comes in, with a spirit.  We shall certainly renew it.

Har.  Take the caution you gave to my lord:  don’t expose yourself.  And another; that you cannot more effectually do so, than by exposing your husband.  I am more than half-ashamed of you.  You are not the Charlotte I once thought you were.  Let me see, if you have any regard to my good opinion of you, that you can own an error with some grace.