O my dear lord! what do you mean? Are you and Lady Gertrude really angry with me? I cannot bear the serious conclusion of your letter. May you both live long, and be happy! If my affectionate duty to you both will contribute to your felicity, it shall not be wanting. I was so happy here, that I know not when I should have returned to town, had you not so kindly as to your intention, yet so se-verely in your expressions, admonished me. I will soon throw myself at your feet; and by the next post will fix the day on which I hope to be forgiven by you both. Let Lord G. answer for himself. Upon my word he is as much to blame as I am; nay, more; for he dotes upon Miss Byron.

Duty I avow: pardon I beg: never more, my dear and honoured lord, shall you have like reason to chide

Your ever dutiful daughter, Nor you, my dear Lady Gertrude, Your most obedient niece,

CHARLOTTE G.

Letter XXI.

Lady G. to Miss Byron.

London, Saturday, August 5. Thank you, my reverend and dear Mrs. Shirley, Mrs. Selby, and Harriet the lovely and beloved. Thank you, my dear Lucy and Nancy Selby, and Kitty and Patty Holies; and good Mrs. Onne; and you, my dear disputatious uncle Selby, and honest cousin James, and all the rest of you; for your par-ticular graces, favours, civilities, and goodness su — perabundant, to my bustling lord, and his lively dame. Let the good doctor and Emily thank you for themselves.

And who do you think met us at St. Alban’s?

Why, Beauchamp, Sir Harry and my Jacty, and Mr. and Mrs. Reeves!

Poor Sir Harry! He is in a very bad way; and Lady Beauchamp and his son (who peradventure had a reason he gave not) prevailed upon him to make this little excursion, in hopes it would divert him. They had not for some weeks past seen him so cheerful as we made him.

Aunt Nell met us, at Barnet, with Cicely Badger, her still older woman, whom she keeps about her to make herself look young on comparison But a piece of bad news, Harriet: our aunt Nell has lost two more of her upper fore-teeth. A vile bit of bone (O how she execrates it!) which lurked in a fricasee, did the irreparable mischief: and the good old soul is teaching her upper-lip, when she speaks, to resign all motion to the under one, that it may as little as possible make the defect visible. What poor wretches are we, Harriet, men, as well as women! We pray for long life; and what is the issue of our prayers, but leave to outlive our teeth and our friends; to stand in the way of our elbowing relations; and to change our swan-skins for skins of buff; which nevertheless will keep out neither cold nor infirmity! But T shall be serious by-and-by. And what is the design of my pen-prattle, but to make my sweet Harriet smile?