Still, Lucy, the contents of that Bagenhall’s let-ter hung heavy at my heart. But as I could not be sure but Sir Charles had his reasons for concealing the matter from his sisters, I knew not how to enter directly into the subject: but, thought I, can-not I fish something out for the quiet of my own heart; and leave to Sir Charles’s discretion the man-ner of his revealing the matter to his sisters, ot otherwise? d d 2

Did your ladyship, said I to Lady L. arrive on Saturday [I knew not how to begin] at the hospitable house at Colnebrook, my asylum?

I did: and shall have a greater value for that house than ever I had before, for its having afforded a shelter to so valued a lady.

You have been told, ladies, I suppose, of that Wilson’s letter to Sir Charles?

We have: and rejoice to find that so deep a plot was so happily frustrated.

His postscript gives me concern.

What were the contents of it?

That Sir Hargrave breathed nothing but revenge.

Sir Charles told us nothing of that: but it is not unlikely that a man so greatly disappointed should rave and threaten. I am told that he is still, either by shame, or illness, confined to his chamber.

At that moment, a chariot stopt at the door: and instantly, It is Lord L. and Sir Charles with him, said Miss Grandison.

I dared not to trust myself with my joy. I hur-ried out at one of the doors, as if I had forgot something, as they entered at the other. I rushed into the back parlour — Thank God! thank God! said I— My gratitude was too strong for my heart: I thought I should have fainted.

Do you wonder, Lucy, at my being so much af-fected, when I had been in such a dreadful suspense, and had formed such terrible ideas of the danger of one of the best of men, all owing to his serving and saving me?

Surprises from joy, I fancy, and where gratitude is the principal spring, are sooner recovered from than surprises which raise the more stormy passions. Mrs. Reeves came into me: My dear! your with-drawing will be noticed. I was just coming in, said I: and so I was. I went in.

Sir Charles bowed low to me: so did my lord. srR CHARLES GRANDISON. 305

Permit me, madam, said Sir Charles, to present Lord L. to you: he is our brother — Our late-found sister Harriet, my lord.

Sir Charles, said Miss Grandison, Miss Byron, and Mr. and Mrs. Reeves, have been tormenting themselves about a postscript to that footman’s let-ter. You told not us of that postscript.

Who minds postscripts, Charlotte? Except indeed to a lady’s letter. One word with you, good Miss Byron; taking my hand, and leading me to the win-dow.

How the fool coloured! I could feel my face glow.