What a ridiculous, what an impertinent, what a vexatious adventure have I met with! Happily disengaged from Sir Harry, who is twelve miles from hence, I intended to take advantage of his absence, to enjoy the pleasure of walking alone. As I crossed the walk I was in, to gain the park, I saw Sir James: he had followed me without letting me perceive it. This meeting extremely displeased me; I knew it was then impossible to avoid hearing him: determined to listen to him I had already meditated on my reply – But, my dear Henrietta could you believe it? Could you imagine the effect his discourse has produced in my heart, my weak unguarded heart? Sir James began, by telling me, that the only motive of his journey to Winchester, was – he hesitated – to find – to seize – the opportunity – which chance had now given him – in short – to render me a homage– he again hesitated; but emboldened by my profound silence, he drew the most lively, the most animated picture of his ardor, of his sufferings, of his respect, of his passion – My God, of whatever he pleased, my dear, I gave him no interruption – Alas! I was too distant from him! – His confusion, his embarrasment, his expressions almost the same, the place, the hour, the season, the very day, so present to my memory; all recalled the idea of Lord Ossory. I seemed again to hear that voice so sweet, so adored, those flattering promises, those vows so cruelly betrayed: my head sunk on my bosom, forgetting Sir James, his confession, his love; forgetting prudence and myself. I gave a loose to my tears; I abandoned myself to a sorrow the marks of which I was unable either to restrain or to conceal. I know not what Sir James said, I know not what he thought of an emotion so extraordinary: I am ignorant how long this singular scene lasted. We heard my Lady Sunderland, she came towards us: Sir James struck into the wood, and your foolish friend crossed into a close walk, that she might not be seen, and hastened to write to you.