Oh! quite well, my Lord; withdrawing my hand carelessly.
For heaven’s sake, take more care of yourself, Miss Warley; this might have been a sad affair.
Depend on that, my Lord, for my own sake.
For your own sake! Not in consideration of any other person?
Yes; of Lady Mary Sutton, Sir James and Lady Powis, good Mr. Jenkings and his wife, who I know would be concerned was I to suffer much from any accident.
Then there is no other person you would wish to preserve your life for?
Not that I know at present, my Lord,
Not that you know at present! so you think you may one day or other?
I pretend not, my Lord, to answer for what may happen; I have never seen the person yet. I was going to say something further, I have really forgot what, when he turn’d from me, and walked up and down the room with a seeming discomposure.
If you are sincere in what you have said, Miss Warley; if you are really sincere, I do pronounce—Here he burst open the door, and flew out the instant Sir James and Lady Powis entered.
When the tea was made, a footman was sent to Lord Darcey; but he was no where to be found.
This is very strange, said her Ladyship; Lord Darcey never used to be out of the way at tea-time. I declare I am quite uneasy; perhaps he may be ill.
Oh! cry’d Sir James, don’t hurry yourself; I warrant he is got into one of his old reveries, and forgets the time.
I was quite easy. I knew his abrupt departure was nothing but an air:—an air of consequence, I suppose.—However, I was willing to be convinced, so did not move till I saw the Gentleman sauntering up the lawn. As no one perceived him but myself, I slid out to the housekeeper, and told her, if her Lady enquir’d for me, I was gone home to write Letters by to-morrow’s post.
You have enough of it now, I believe, my dear Lady; two long letters by the same packet:—but you are the repository of my joy, my grief, the very inmost secrets of my soul.—You, my dear Lady, have the whole heart of
Lord DARCEY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH.
Ruin’d and undone, as I hope for mercy!—undone too by my own egregious folly!—She is quite lost,—quite out of my power.—I wish Lord Allen had been in the bottom of the sea;—he can never make me amends;—no, if he was to die to-morrow and leave me his whole fortune.—
I told you he was to dine here yesterday.—I
circumstantial.—He did dine here;—to my utter sorrow he did.