Sir Charles praised Miss Danby. She was full of gratitude; and of humility, I suppose. Meek, mo-dest, and humble, are qualities of which men are might)’ fond in women. But matrimony, and a sense of obligation, are equally great humblers even of spirits prouder than that of Miss Danby; as your poor Charlotte can testify.

The young gentlemen, with the rest, were to meet Sir Charles, the bride, and these ladies, at St. Helen’s, I think the church is called.

As if wedlock were an honour, the Danby girl, in respect to Sir Charles, was to be first yoked. He gave her away to the son Galliard. The father Galliard gave his daughter to Edward Danby: but first Mr. Hervey gave his niece to the elder.

One of the brides, I forget which, fainted away; another half-fainted Saved by timely salts; the third, poor soul, wept heartily as I suppose I shall do on Tuesday.

Never, surely was there such a matrimony-promoter, as my brother. God give me soon my re — venge upon him in the same way!

The procession afterwards was triumphant Six coaches, four silly souls in each; and to Mr. Pous-sin’s at Enfield they all drove. There they found another large company. k 2

My brother was all cheerfulness: and both men and women seemed to contend for his notice: but they were much disappointed at finding he meant to leave them early in the evening.

One married lady, the wife of Sir Somebody

(I am very bad at remembering the names of city knights) was resolved, she said, since they could not have Sir Charles to open the ball, to have one dance before dinner with the handsomest man in England. The music was accordingly called in; and he made no scruple to oblige the company on a day so happy.

Do you know, Harriet, that Sir Charles is sup-posed to be one of the finest dancers in England? Remember, my dear, that on Tuesday [Lord help me! I shall then be stupid, and remember nothing] you take him out yourself: and then you will judge for yourself of his excellence in this science May we not call dancing a science? If we judge by the Jew who perform gracefully in it, I am sure we may; and a difficult one too.

O! And remember, Harriet, that you get some-body to call upon him to sing. You shall play I believe I shall forget in that only agreeable moment of the day (for you have a sweet finger, my love) that I am the principal fool in the play of the evening.

O Harriet! how can I, in the circumstances I am in, write any more about these soft souls, and silly? Come to me by day-dawn, and leave me not till I don’t know when. Come, and take my part, my dear: I shall hate this man: he does nothing but hop, skip, and dance about me, grin, and make mouths; and every-body upholds him in it.