The Duc de Pecquigny was on the point of a duel with Lord Garlies,(455) at Lord Milton’s(456) ball, the former handing the latter’s partner down to supper.  I wish you had this Duke again, lest you should have trouble with him from hence:  he seems a genius of the wrong sort.  His behaviour on the visit to Woburn was very wrong-headed, though their treatment of him was not more right.  Lord Sandwich flung him down in one of their horse-plays, and almost put his shoulder out.  He said the next day there, at dinner, that for the rest of his life he should fear nothing so much as a lettre de cachet from a French secretary of state, or a coup d’`epaule from an English one.  After this he had a pique with the Duchess, with whom he had been playing at whisk.  A shilling and sixpence were left on the table, which nobody claimed.  He was asked if it was his, and said no.  Then they said, let us put it to the cards:  there was already a guinea.  The Duchess, in an air of grandeur said, as there was gold for the groom of the chambers, the sweeper of the room might have the silver, and brushed it off the table.  The Pecquigny took this to himself, though I don’t believe meaned; and complained to the whole town of it, with large comments, at his return.  It is silly to tell you Such silly stories, but in your situation it may grow necessary for you to know the truth, if you should hear them repeated.  I am content to have you call me gossip, if I prove but of the least use to you.

Here have I tapped the ninth page!  Well!  I am this moment going to M. de Guerchy’s, to know when Monin sets out, that I may finish this eternal letter.  If I tire you, tell me so:  I am sure I do myself.  If I speak with too much freedom to you, tell me so:  I have done it in consequence of your questions, and mean it most kindly.  In short, I am ready to amend any thing you disapprove; so don’t take any thing ill, my dear lord, unless I continue after you have reprimanded me.  The safe manner in which this goes, has made me, too, more explicit than you know I have been on any other occasion.  Adieu!

Wednesday-night, late.

Well, my letter will be finished at last.  M. Monin sets out on Friday. so does my Lord Holland:  but I affect not to know it, for he is not just the person that you or I should choose to be the bearer of this.  You will be diverted with a story they told me to-night at the French Ambassador’s.  When they went to supper, at Soho, last night, the Duke of Cumberland placed himself at the head of the table.  One of the waiters tapped him on the shoulder, and said, “Sir, your Royal Highness can’t sit there; that place is designed for the Hereditary Prince.”  You ought to have seen how every body’s head has been turned with this Prince, to make this story credible to you.  My Lady Rockingham, at Leicester-house, yesterday, cried great sobs for his departure.  Yours ever, page the ninth.

(431) This letter does not appear.