Sir James has wrote to me. His letter is tender; he loves me, he will not tell me so. He does not dare to ask the subject of my tears; he shall never forget that moment. He sees that my heart is pierced with a grief which he respects. He concludes with assuring me of his eternal love. – Eternal, my dear, they all promise an eternal love. The first proof Sir James will give me of his eternal love, and of his submission, is, to hide those sentiments, which he is sure of preserving for ever. I have answered him politely, and accepted his silence only. I am sorry to have inspired him with tenderness. If I cannot make him happy, I wish, at least, not to have made him miserable. He is amiable; he would have been agreeable to me, if any one could be so.

You are sure my Lord Ossory is not at Bath. They have not seen him at Hert-ford. Lady Osmond does not name him amongst those who are with her. She presses me to return to Hertford! to see again those scenes! Ah! I will not go to Hertford.

Here is Sir Harry quickly returned, and returned the very same as when he left us. I received him very well; not well enough however, for he has a very discontented air – Your Ladyship is writing – a profound sigh, and the tiresome creature walks off – Ah no, he comes back, loaded with a basket of hyacinths and narcissusses, with which he is going to ornament my closet. Whilst he is busy arranging them – My Ladyship is writing – to the great regret of Sir Harry. I feel that nothing can be more impolite, but if I was to shew the least gratitude for his little civilities, he would overwhelm me with them. ‘Tis quite enough to bear all his ill humours in silence: he has so many with me, that I often examine myself to find if I have not done him some injury. That which makes his presence tedious, and his tenderness painful to me, is my thinking that in his heart he calls me ungrateful.’