I will, Sir, with all my heart and soul. Most of my things are in the country. My lord came up in a passion, to talk with you. Sir. Two or three band-boxes are all I have here. Mr Halden (he is my lord’s favourite) shall go down, and see I take no-thing but my own 1 will trust to your word of honour. Sir and leave, for ever, the most ungrateful

Hush, Mrs. GifFard, these tears are tears of pas-sion. There is not a fen)ale feature, at this instant, in your face [What a command of countenance! It cleared up in a moment. I expected it from her] t,

A penitent spirit is an humble, a broken spirit: you shew, at present, no sign of it.

She dropt me a courtesy, with such an air (though not designed, I beheve) as shewed that the benefit she was to reap from the advice, would not be sud-den, if ever; and immediately repeated her ques — tion, if she had my honour for the payment of the entire sum And you don’t insist. Sir (I have poor relations) that I shall pay out the hundred a year, as you mentioned?

You are to do with the whole annuity as you please. If your relations are worthy, you cannot do better than to relieve their necessities. But remem-ber, Mrs. Giffard, that every quarter brings you the wages of iniquity, and endeavour at some atonement.

The woman could too well bear this severity. Had a finger been sufficient to have made her feel, I would not have laid upon her the weight of my whole hand.

She assured me, that she would leave the house in two hours time. I returned to my lord, and told him so.

He arose from his seat, embraced me, and called me his good angel. I advised him to give his orders to Halden, or to whom he thought fit, to do her and himself justice, as to what belonged to her in the country.

But the terms! the terms! cried my lord. If you have brought me off for 150/. I will adore you.

These are the terms (you promised to leave them to me): you pay no more than 150/. a year for her life, till you assure me, upon your honour, that you cheerfully, and on mature consideration, make it up 250/.

How is that! How is that, nephew? Then I never shall pay more, depend upon it.

Nor will I ever ask you.

He rubbed his hands, forgetting the gout; but was remembered by the pain, and cried Oh!

But how did you manage it? I never should have brought her to any thing How did you ma-nage it?

Your lordship does not repent her going?

He swore, that it was the happiest event that could have befallen him. I hope, said he, she will go without wishing to see me Whether she would whine or curse, it would be impossible for me to see her, and be myself.