I hope I shall find the London gentlemen more polite than these our neighbours of the fox-chace: and yet hitherto I have seen no great cause to prefer them to the others. But about the court, and at the fashionable public places, I expect wonders. Pray Heaven, I may not be disappointed!

Thank Miss Orme, in my name, for the kind wishes she sends me. Tell her, that her doubts of my affection for her are not just; and that I do really and indeed love her. Nor should she want the most explicit declarations of my love, were I not more afraid of her in the character of a sister to a truly respectable man, than doubtful of her in that of a friend to rut’: in which latter light, I even joy to consider her. But she is a little naughty, tell her, because she is always hading to one subject. And yet, how can I be angry with her for it, if her good opinion of me induces her to think it in my power to make the brother happy, whom she so dearly and deservedly loves? 1 cannot but esteem her for the part she takes. — And this it is that makes me afraid of the artlessly-artful Miss Orme.

It would look as if I thought my duty, and love? and respects, were questionable, if in every letter I repeated them to my equally honoured and beloved benefactors, friends, and favourers. Sup — pose them therefore always included in my sub — scription to you, my Lucy, when I tell you that I am, and will be,

Your ever-affectionate

HARRIET BYRON.

Letter VII.

Mr. Selby to Miss Byron.

Selby-house, Jan. 30. Well! and now there wants but a London lover or two to enter upon the stage, and Vanity–Fair will be proclaimed, and directly opened. Greville every where magnifying you in order to justify his flame for you: Fenwick exalting you above all women: Orme adoring you, and by his hum-ble silence saying more than any of them: pro posals besides from this man: letters from that! What scenes of flattery and nonsense have I been witness to for these past three years and half, that young Mr. Elford began the dance? Single! Well may you have remained single till this your twen-tieth year, when you have such ehoice of admirers, that you don’t know which to have. So in a mer-cer’s shop, the tradesman has a fine time with you women; when variety of his rich wares distract you; and fifty to one at last, but as well in men as silks, you choose the worst, especially if the best is offered at first, and refused. For women know belter how to be sorry, than to amend.

“It is true, say you, that we young women are apt to be pleased with admiration” — Oil oh! Are you so? And so I have gained one point with you at last; have I?