very much for us,” Lady Mary wrote from Hinchinbrooke early in December to her husband in town.  “As the Bishop is no infallible prelate, I should not depend much on that intelligence; but my sister Frances tells me the same thing.  Since it is so, I believe you’ll think it very proper to pay him a visit, if he is in town, and give him thanks for the good offices you hear he has endeavoured to do me, unasked.  If his kindness is sincere, ’tis too valuable to be neglected.  However, the very appearance of it may be of use to us.  If I know him, his desire of making my Father appear in the wrong, will make him zealous for us.  I think I ought to write him a letter of acknowledgment for what I hear he has already done.”  Very shortly after, however, it appears that Lord Pierrepont was a broken reed upon which to rely.  “I did not expect,” Lady Mary said bitterly, “that my Lord Pierrepont would speak at all in our favour, much less show zeal upon that occasion, that never showed any in his life.”  You cannot put it plainer than that.

One who did really endeavour to bring about the resumption of friendly relations was Montagu’s cousin, Charles Montagu, first Baron Halifax of Halifax, who was afterwards created first Earl of Halifax.

To judge from Lady Mary’s comments, sometimes when Montagu did write it had been better he should not have done so.

“I am alone, without any amusements to take up my thoughts.  I am in circumstances in which melancholy is apt to prevail even over all amusements, dispirited and alone, and you write me quarrelling letters,” she rebuked him on one occasion.

“I hate complaining; ’tis no sign I am easy that I do not trouble you with my head-aches, and my spleen; to be reasonable one should never complain but when one hopes redress.  A physician should be the only confidant of bodily pains; and for those of the mind, they should never be spoke of but to them that can and will relieve ’em.  Should I tell you that I am uneasy, that I am out of humour, and out of patience, should I see you half an hour the sooner?  I believe you have kindness enough for me to be very sorry, and so you would tell me; and things remain in their primitive state; I chuse to spare you that pain; I would always give you pleasure.  I know you are ready to tell me that I do not ever keep to these good maxims.  I confess I often speak impertinently, but I always repent of it.  My last stupid letter was not come to you, before I would have had it back again had it been in my power; such as it was, I beg your pardon for it.”

In May, 1713, Lady Mary was delivered of a boy, who was christened after his father, Edward Wortley Montagu.  Some account of his unsatisfactory career will be given in a later chapter.  As an infant, he suffered from ill-health.