Your commands, my dear Lady, are executed.—I have wrote Mrs. Smith; and as soon as I receive her answer, shall, with a joyful heart, with impatient fondness, prepare to throw at your Ladyship’s feet,
Your much honour’d,
Lord DARCEY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH.
Prepare your ten pieces, George!—Upon my honour, I was at Barford Abbey a quarter before three, notwithstanding a detention on the road by Lord Michell and Flecher, driving on Jehu for Bath, in his Lordship’s phaeton and fix.—You have seen them before this,—and, I suppose, know their errand.—The girl is an egregious fool, that is certain.—I warrant there are a hundred bets depending.—I ask’d what he intended doing with her if he succeeded?—Do with her! said his Lordship; why, she is not more than eighteen; let her go to school: faith, Flecher, that’s my advice.—Let her go to the devil after I am once sure of her, return’d the lover; and, whipping up the horses; drove away like lightning.
Be serious—Answer me one serious question,—Is it not possible,—very possible, to have a regard, a friendship, for an amiable girl, without endangering her peace or my own?—If I am further involv’d than friendship,—the blame is not mine; it will lie at the door of Sir James and Lady Powis.—Talk no more of Lady Elizabeth’s smile, or Miss Grevel’s hair—Stuff!—meer stuff! nor keep me up after a late evening, to hear your nonsense of Miss Compton’s fine neck and shoulders, or Fanny Middleton’s eyes.—Come here next week, I will insure you a sight of all those graces in one form. Come, I say, you will be welcome to Sir James and his Lady as myself.—Miss Warley will smile on you.—What other inducement can you want?—Don’t be too vain of Miss Warley’s smiles; for know, she cannot look without them.
Who is Miss Warley?—What is Miss Warley?—you ask.—To your first question I can only answer, A visitor at Jenkings’s.—To the second,—She is what has been so much sought after in every age, perfect harmony of mind and person.—Such a hand, George—
Already have I been here eight days:—was I to measure time, I should call them hours.—My affairs with Sir James will take up longer in settling than I apprehended.—Come therefore this week or the next, I charge you.—Come as you hope to see Miss Warley. What do you think Sir James said to me the other day?—Was Miss Warley a girl of fortune, I should think her born for you, Darcey.—As that is not the case,—take care of your heart, my Lord.—She will never attempt to drag you into scrapes:—your little favourite robin, that us’d to peck from your hand, has not less guile.
No! he will never consent;—I must only think of friendship.