Chapter 3

_Now_, are you convinc'd no mean views with-hold me?--You despise not
more than I do the knave and coxcomb; for no other, to satiate their own
vanity, would sport away the quiet of a fellow-creature.--Well may you
call it cruel.--_Such_ cruelties fall little short of those practised by
_Nero_ and _Caligula_.

Did it depend on myself only, I would tell Miss Warley I love, _every
time_ I behold her enchanting face; _every time_ I hear the voice of
wisdom springing from the seat of innocence.

No shadow of gaining over Sir James!--_Efforts_ has not been wanting:--I
mean _efforts_ to declare my inclination.--I have follow'd him like a
ghost for days past, thinking at every step how I should bless _this_ or
_that_ spot on which he consented to my happiness.--Pleasing
phantoms!--How have they fled at sight of his determin'd
countenance!--Methought I could trace _in it_ the same obduracy which
nature vainly pleaded to remove.--In _other_ matters my heart is
resolute;--_here_ an errant coward.--No! I cannot break it to him whilst
in Hampshire.--When I get to town, a letter _shall_ speak for
me.--Sometimes I am tempted to trust the secret to Lady Powis.--She is
compassionate;--she would even risk her own peace to preserve
mine.--Again the thoughts of involving her in fresh perplexities
determines me against it.

Had my father been acquainted with that part of Sir James's character
which concerned his son, I am convinc'd he would have made some
restrictions in regard to the explicit obedience he enjoined.--But all
was hushed whilst Mr. Powis continued on his travels; nor, until he
settled abroad, did any one suspect there had been a family
disagreement:--_even_ at _this_ time the whole affair is not generally
known.--The name of the lady to whom he was obliged to make proposals,
is in particular carefully concealed.--I, who from ten years old have
been bred up with them, am an entire stranger to it.--_Perhaps_ no part
of the affair would ever have transpired, had not Sir James made some
discoveries, in the first agitation of his passion, before a large
company, when he received an account of Mr. Powis's being appointed to
the government of ----. No secret can be safe in a breast where every
passage is not well guarded against an enemy which, like lightning,
throws up all before it.

Let me not forget to tell you, amongst a multiplicity of concerns
crowding on my mind, that I have positively deny'd Edmund to intercede
with his father regarding the commission.--A bare surmise that he is my
rival, has silenced me.--Was I ungenerous enough to indulge myself in
getting rid of him, an opportunity now offers;--but I am _as_ averse to
such proceedings as _he_ ought to be who is the friend of Molesworth,
and writes the name of

DARCEY.

LETTER XI.

The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH to Lord DARCEY.

_Bath_.

Believe me, my dear Lord, I never suspected you capable of designs you
justly hold in abhorrence.--If I expressed myself warmly, it was owing
to your keeping from me the knowledge of those particulars which have
varied every circumstance.--I saw my friend a poor restless being,
irresolute, full of perplexities.--I felt for him.--I rejoice now to
find from whence this _irresolution_, those _perplexities_ arose.--She
is,--she must,--by heaven! she shall be yours:--A reward fit only for
_such_ great--_such_ noble resolutions.

You talk of a _last_ argument--Forbear _that_ argument.--You _must_ not
use it before you have laid your intentions open to Sir
James.--_Neither_ follow her to France.--What, as you are situated,
would _that_ avail?--Prevent her going, _if_ you can.--_Such_ a woman,
under the protection of Lady Mary Sutton, _must_ have many advantageous
proposals.

I understand _nothing_ of features,--I know _nothing_ of physiognomy, if
you have any uneasiness from Bridgman.--It was not marks of a violent
passion he betrayed;--rather, I think, an ambition of having his taste
approved by the world;--but we shall know more of the matter when I meet
him in town.

Stupidity!--Not see her partiality!--not see that she loves you!--She
will some time hence own it as frankly with her lips, as her eyes have
told you a thousand times, did you understand their language.--The duce
a word could _I_ get from them.--Very uncivil, I think, not to _speak_
when they were _spoke_ to,--They will be ready enough, I suppose, with
their _thanks_ and _applauses_, when I present her hand to be united
with her heart. That office shall be _mine_:--_Something_ tells me,
there is to be an alteration in _your_ affairs, sudden as unexpected.

I go to the rooms this evening for the last time.--To-morrow I set out
for Slone Hall, in my way to London.--Here I shall spend two or three
days happily with my good-natured cousin Lady Dorothy.--Perhaps we may
take an airing together as far as your territories.--I shall _now_ look
on Faulcon-Park with double pleasure.--Neither that or the agreeable
neighbourhood round it will be ever bridled over by a haughty
dame.--(Miss Warley, forbid it.)--Some such we see in _high_ as well as
_low_ life.--Haughtiness is the reverse of true greatness; therefore it
staggers me to behold it in the former.

A servant with a white favour!--What can this mean?--

Upon my word, Mr. Flecher, you return with your fair bride sooner than I
expected.--_A card too_.--Things must be _finely_ accommodated with the
old Lady.--Your Lordship being at too great a distance to partake of the
feast, pray regale on what calls me to it.

"Mrs. Moor and Mr. and Mrs. Flecher's compliments to Mr. Molesworth.--My
son and daughter are just return'd from Scotland, and hope for the
pleasure of Mr. Molesworth's company with eight or ten other friends, to
congratulate them this evening on their arrival.--Both the Ladies and
Mr. Flecher will be much disappointed, if you do not accept our
invitation."

True as I live, _neither added_ or _diminished_ a tittle,--and wrote by
the hand of Flecher's Desdemona.--Does not a man richly deserve thirty
thousand pounds with a wife _like this?_--Not for _twice_ that sum would
I see such nonsense come from her I was to spend my life with.

Pity Nature and Fortune has such frequent bickerings! When one smiles
the other frowns.--I wish the gipsies would make up matters, and send us
down their favours wrapp'd up together.

Considering the friendship you have honour'd Edmund with, I have no idea
he can presume to think of Miss Warley, _seeing_ what he must _see_.

I shall expect to find a letter on my arrival in St. James's
Street.--Omit not those respects which are due at Barford Abbey.

Yours,

MOLESWORTH.

LETTER XII.

Lord DARCEY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH.

_Barford Abbey_.

I should be in a fine plight, truly, to let her go to France without
me!--Why, I am almost besides myself at the thoughts of an eight days
separation.--Was ever any thing so forgetful!--To bring no other cloaths
here but mourning!--Did she always intend to encircle the sun with a
sable cloud?--Or, why not dispatch a servant?--A journey into
Oxfordshire is absolutely necessary.--Some _other_ business, I suppose;
but I am not enough in her confidence to know of what nature.--Poh!
love!--Impossible, and refuse me so small a boon as to attend
her!--requested too in a manner that spoke my whole soul.--Yes; I had
near broke through all my resolutions.--This I did say, If Miss Warley
refuses her dear hand, pressing it to my lips, in the same peremptory
manner,--what will become of him who without it is lost to the whole
world?--The reply ventur'd no further than her cheek;--there sat
enthron'd in robes of crimson.--I scarce dar'd to look up:--her eyes
darted forth a ray so powerful, that I not only quitted her hand, but
suffered her to leave the room without my saying another word.--This
happened at Jenkings's last evening; in the morning she was to set out
with the old gentleman for Oxfordshire.--I did not attempt seeing her
again 'till that time, fearing my presence might be unpleasing, after
the confusion I had occasion'd.

Sick of my bed I got up at five; and taking a gun, directed my course to
the only spot on earth capable of affording me delight.--The outer gate
barr'd:--no appearance of any living creature, except poor Caesar.--He,
hearing my voice, crept from his wooden-house, and, instead of barking,
saluted me in a whining tone:--stretching himself, he jumped towards the
gate, licking my hand that lay between the bars.--I said many kind
things to this faithful beast, in hopes my voice would awaken some of
the family.--The scheme succeeded.--A bell was sounded from one of the
apartments; that opposite to which I stood.--A servant opening the
window-shutters, I was tempted to keep my stand.--A white beaver with a
green feather, and a riding-dress of the same colour, plainly told me
this was the room where rested all my treasure, and caused in my mind
such conflicts as can no more be described by _me_ than felt by
_another_.--Unwilling to encrease my tortures I reeled to an old tree,
which lay on a bank near;--there sat down to recover my trembling.--The
next thing which alarmed me was an empty chaise, driving full speed
down the hill.--I knew on _what_ occasion, yet could not forbear asking
the post-boy.--He answered, To carry some company from yonder house.--My
situation was really deplorable,--when I beheld my dear lovely girl
walking in a pensive mood, attir'd in that very dress which I espied
through the window.--Heavy was the load I dragged from head to heel;
yet, like a Mercury, I flew to meet her.--She saw me,--started,--and
cry'd, Bless me! my Lord! what brings you hither at this early
hour?--The real truth was springing to my lips, when, recollecting her
happiness might be the sacrifice, I said, examining the lock of my
gun,--I am waiting, Miss Warley, for that lazy fellow Edmund:--he
promised to shew me an eye of pheasants.--If you are not a very keen
sportsman, returned she, what says your Lordship to a cup of
chocolate?--It will not detain you long;--Mrs. Jenkings has some ready
prepared for the travellers.

She pronounced _travellers_ with uncommon glee;--at least I thought
so,--and, nettled at her indifference, could not help replying, _You_
are _very_ happy, madam;--_you_ part with your friends _very_
unreluctantly, I perceive.

If any thing ever appeared in my favour, it was now.--Her confusion was
visible;--even Edmund observed it, who just then strolled towards us,
and said, looking at both attentively, What is the matter with Miss
Warley?

With me, Edmund? she retorted,--nothing ails me.--I suppose you think I
am enough of the fine lady to complain the whole day, because I have got
up an hour before my usual time.

His tongue was _now_ silent;--his eyes _full_ of enquiries.--He fixed
them on us alternately,--wanting to discover the situation of our
hearts.--Why so curious, Edmund?--Things cannot go on long at this
rate.--_Your_ heart must undergo a strict scrutiny before I shall know
what terms we are upon.

No words can paint my gratitude for worthy Jenkings.--He went to the
Abbey, on foot, before breakfast was ended, to give me an opportunity of
supplying his place in the chaise.--At parting he actually took one of
my hands, joined it with Miss Warley's, and I could perceive petitions
ascending from the seat of purity.--I know to what they tended.--I
_felt_, I _saw_ them.--The chaise drove off. I could have blessed
him.--May my blessings overtake him!--May they light where virtue sits
enshrin'd by locks of silver.

Yes, if his son was to wound me in the tenderest part, for the sake of
_such_ a father, I think,--I know not what to think.--Living in such
suspence is next to madness.

She treats him with the freedom of a sister.--She calls him
Edmund,--leans on his arm, and suffers him to take her hand.--The least
favour conferred on me is with an air _so_ reserved, _so_ distant, as if
she would say, I have not for you the least sentiment of tenderness.

Lady Powis sends to desire I will walk with her.--A sweet companion am I
for a person in low spirits!--That her's are not high is evident.--She
has shed many tears this morning at parting with Miss Warley.

Instead of eight days mortification we might have suffer'd twenty, had
not her Ladyship insisted on an absolute promise of returning at that
time.--Farewel till then.

Yours,

DARCEY.

LETTER XIII.

Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON.

_From the Crown, at ----_.

Here am I, ever-honour'd lady, forty miles on the road to that beloved
spot, where, for nineteen years, my tranquility was uninterrupted.--Will
a serene sky always hang over me?--It will be presumption to suppose
it,--when thousands, perhaps, endowed with virtues the most god-like,
have nothing on which they can look _back_ but dark clouds,--nothing to
which they can look _forward_ but gathering storms.--Am I a bark only
fit to sail in fair weather?--Shall I not prepare to meet the waves of
disappointment?

How does my heart bear,--how throb,--to give up follies which dare not
hide themselves where a passage is made _by_ generosity, _by_ affection
unbounded.--Yes, my dear Lady, this is the only moment I do not regret
being absent from you;--for could my tongue relate what my pen trembles
to discover?--No!

Behold _me_ at your Ladyship's feet!--behold _me_ a supplicant suing for
my returning peace!--_You_ only, can restore it.--Command that I give up
my preference for Lord Darcey, and the intruder is banished from my
heart:--_then_ shall I no more labour to deceive myself:--_then_ shall I
no more blindly exchange certain peace for doubtful happiness,--a
_quiet_ for a _restless_ mind.--Humility has not fled me;--my heart has
not fallen a sacrifice to title, pomp, or splendor.--Yet, has it not
foolishly, unasked, given itself up?--Ah! my Lady, not entirely unask'd
neither; or, why, from the first moment, have I seen him shew _such_
tender, _such_ respectful assiduities?--why _so_ ardently solicit to
attend me into Oxfordshire?--why ask, if I refused my hand in the same
peremptory manner, what would become of the man who without it was lost
to the whole world?--But am I not too vain?--Why should this man be Lord
Darcey?--Rather one rising to his imagination, who he might possibly
suppose was entrapped by my girlish years.--A few, a very _few_ weeks,
and I am gone from him forever.--If your Ladyship's goodness can pardon
the confession I have made, no errors will I again commit of the kind
which now lies blushing before you.

Next to your Ladyship Mr. Jenkings is the best friend I have on
earth.--He _never_ has suspected, or _now_ quite forgets his
suspicions.--Not all my entreaties could prevent him from taking this
long journey with me.--His age, his connections, his business, every
thing is made subservient to my convenience--Whilst I write he is below,
and has just sent up to know if I will permit a gentleman of his
acquaintance, whom he has met accidentally at this inn, to dine with
us.--Why does he use this ceremony?--I can have no objection to any
friend of _his_.--Dinner is served up.--I shall write again at our last
stage this evening.

_From the Mitre at ----_.

Past twelve at night!--An hour I used to think the most silent of
any:--but _here_ so much the reverse, one reasonably may suppose the
inhabitants, or guests, have mistaken midnight for mid-day.

I will ring and enquire, why all this noise?

A strange bustle!--Something like fighting!--Very near, I
protest.--Hark! bless me, I shall be frightened to death!--The
chambermaid not come! Would I could find my way to Mr. Jenkings's
room!--Womens voices, as I live!--Begging!--praying!--Ah! ah! now they
cry, Take the swords away!--Take the swords away!--Heaven defend us! to
be sure we shall be all killed.

_One o'clock_.

Not kill'd, but terrified out of my senses.--Well, if ever I stop at
this inn again--

You remember, Madam, I was thrown into a sad fright by the hurry and
confusion without.--I dropped my pen, and pulled the bell with greater
violence.--No one came;--the noise increas'd.--Several people ran up and
down by the door of my apartment.--I flew and double lock'd it.--But,
good God! what were my terrors, when a voice cried out, She cannot be
brought to life!--Is there no assistance at hand?--no surgeon near?--I
rushed from my chamber, in the first emotions of surprize and
compassion, to mix in a confused croud, _unknowing_ and _unknown_.--I
ventur'd no further than the passage. Judge my astonishment, to perceive
there, and in a large room which open'd into it, fifty or sixty well
dressed people of both sexes:--_Women_, some crying, some
laughing:--_Men_ swearing, stamping, and calling upon others to come
down and end the dispute below.--I thought of nothing _now_, but how to
retreat unobserv'd:--when a gentleman, in regimentals, ran so furiously
up the stairs full against me, that I should have been instantly at the
bottom, had not his extended arm prevented my flight.

I did not stay to receive his apologies, but hastened to my chamber, and
have not yet recovered my trembling.--Why did I leave it?--Why was I so
inconsiderate?

Another alarm!--Some one knocks at the door!--Will there be no end to my
frights?

If one's spirits are on the flutter, how every little circumstance
increases our consternation!--When I heard the tapping at my door,
instead of enquiring who was there, I got up and stood against it.

Don't be afraid, _Mame_, said a voice without; it is only the
chambermaid come with some drops and water.--With drops and water!
replied I, letting her in--who sent you hither?

Captain Risby, _Mame_, one of the officers:--he told me you was
frighten'd.

I am oblig'd to the gentleman;--but set down the drops, I do not want
any.--Pray tell me what has occasioned this uproar in your house?

To be sure, _Mame_, here has been a terrifying noise this night.--It
don't use to be so;--but our _Town's_ Gentlemen have such a dislike to
_Officers_, I suppose there will be no peace while they are in town.--I
never saw the Ladies dress'd so fine in my life; and had the Colonel
happen'd to ask one of the _Alderman's_ daughters to dance, all would
have gone on well.

You have an assembly then in the house?

O yes, _Mame_, the assembly is always kept here.--And, as I was saying,
the Colonel should have danced with one of our Alderman's
daughters:--instead of that, he engag'd a daughter of Esquire Light, and
introduced the Major and a _handsome Captain_ to her two sisters.--Now,
to be sure, this was enough to enrage the best Trade's-People in the
place, who can give their _young Ladies_ three times as much as Mr.
Light can his daughters.

I saw she was determin'd to finish her harangue, so did not attempt to
interrupt her.

One of us chambermaids, _Mame_, continued she, always assist the
waiters;--it was my turn this evening; so, as I was stirring the fire in
the card-room, I could hear the Ladies whisper their partners, if they
let strangers stand above them, they might dance with whom they could
get for the future.--They were busy about the matter when the Colonel
enter'd with Miss Light, who though she is _very_ handsome, _very_
sensible, and all that, it did not become her to wear a silver
silk;--for what, as _our Ladies_ said, is family without fortune?--But I
am running on with a story of an hour long.--So _Mame_, as soon as the
Colonel and his partner went into the dancing-room,--_one_ cry'd, Defend
me from French'd hair, if people's heads are to look like
towers;--_another_, her gown sleeves were too large;--a _third_, the
robeings too high;--a _fourth_, her ruff too deep:--in short, _Mame_,
her very shoe-buckles shared the same fate.

This recital put me out of all patience:--I could not endure to see held
up a picture, which, though out of the hands of a dauber, presented a
true likeness of human nature in her most deprav'd state.--Enough, Mrs.
Betty, said I, now pray warm my bed; it is late, and I am fatigued.

O! to be sure, _Mame_; but will you not first hear what was the occasion
of the noise?--The country-dances, continued she, not waiting my reply,
began; and _our Town's Gentlemen_ ran to the top of the room, leaving
the _Officers_ to dance at the bottom.--This put them in _so_ violent a
passion, that the Colonel swore, if _our_ Gentlemen persisted in their
ill manners, not a soul should dance.--So, _Mame_, upon this _our_
Gentlemen let some of the Officers stand above them;--and there was no
dispute till after ten.--What they quarrelled about then I don't
know;--but, when I came into the room, they were all going to
fight;--and fight they certainly would, if they could have got _our_
Gentlemen down stairs.--Not one of them would stir, which made the
others so mad, that they would have pulled them down, had not the Ladies
interfered.--Then it was, _Mame_, I suppose, you heard the cries and
shrieks; for every one that had _husbands, brothers_, or _admirers_
there, took hold of them; begging and praying they would not
fight.--Poor Miss Peggy Turner will have a fine rub; for she always
deny'd to her _Mamma_, that there was any thing in the affair between
her and Mr. Grant the Attorney. Now she has discovered all, by fainting
away when he broke from her to go to the other end of the room.

I hope there has been no blood shed?

None, I'll assure you, _Mame_, in this house; what happens out of it is
no business of mine. Now, _Mame_, would you please to go to bed? By all
means, Mrs. Betty.--So away went my communicative companion. Being much
tired, I shall lay down an hour or two, then reassume my pen.

_Four o'clock in the morning_.

Not able to close my eyes, I am got up to have the pleasure of
introducing to your Ladyship the Gentleman who I mention'd was to dine
with us at the other inn. Judge my surprize, when I found him to be the
worthy Dean of H---- going into Oxfordshire to visit his former
flock;--I knew him before Mr. Jenkings pronounced his name, by the
strong likeness of his picture.

I even fancied the beautiful pair stood before me, whose hands he is
represented joining. It is much to be regretted so fine a piece should
be hid from the world.--Why should not _this_ be proportion? The _other_
portraits which your Ladyship has drawn, are even allowed by Reynolds to
be masterly.--Let me therefore entreat, next time he comes to the Lodge,
my favourite may _at least_ have a chance of being called from
banishment.

The Dean was almost discouraged from proceeding on his journey, by
hearing of your Ladyship's absence, and the death of Mrs. Whitmore.--He
was no stranger to what concern'd me, tho' I could be scarce an
inhabitant of Hillford-Down at the time _he_ left it.--I suppose his
information was from Mr. Jenkings; I could see them from the window deep
in discourse, walking in the Bowling-Green, from the moment the Dean got
out of his chaise till dinner.

The latter expressed infinite satisfaction when I joined them; looking
with such stedfast tenderness, as if he would trace on my countenance
the features of some dear friend.--His sincere regard for Mr. and Mrs.
Whitmore, and the gratitude he owes your Ladyship, must make him behold
me with a favourable eye, knowing how greatly I have been distinguish'd
by the two latter.

He had a stool put into his chaise; assuring us we could fit three
conveniently--We came from the last inn together, and are to travel so
the remainder of the journey.

After your Ladyship's strict commands, that I look on Brandon-Lodge as
my home, I shall make it such the few days I stay in Oxfordshire;--and
have presumed on your indulgence, to request Mr. Jenkings will do the
same.--The Dean's visit is to Mr. Gardener, which will be happy for me,
as that Gentleman's house is so near the Lodge.--I hope to see the tops
of the chimneys this evening.--

My heart would jump at the sight, if I expected your Ladyship to meet me
with open arms.--Extatic thought!--unfit to precede those
disappointments which must follow thick on one another. Can there be
greater!--to pass the very house, once inhabited by--O my Lady!--Heaven!
how will your and her image bring before me past happy scenes!

If this is the Dean's voice, he is got up, early. The horses putting to,
and scarce five o'clock! Here comes a messenger, to say they are ready.
So rest my pen, till; I again take it up at Brandon-Lodge.

_Brandon-Lodge_.

I never saw such general joy as appeared through the village at sight of
the Dean.--The first person who espy'd him ran with such speed into
every house, that by the time we reached Mr. Gardener's gate, the
chaise was surrounded by a hundred people.--Mr. and Mrs. Gardener
stepping out, were saluted by the Dean. What, our old friend! cried
they.--What, our old friend!--Good God!--and Miss Warley too!--This is a
joyful surprize, indeed! and would have taken me out by force, if I had
not persisted in going to the Lodge.--Your Ladyship is enough acquainted
with these good people, to know they would part with any thing rather
than their friends.--I have not yet seen Miss Gardener: she was gone on
a walk with Miss West and Miss Conway.

The Dean showered a thousand marks of regard on all around him;--the
meanest not escaping his notice.--In this tumult of pleasure I did not
pass unregarded.--Your Ladyship and Mrs. Whitmore still live in their
hearts; the pure air of Hillford-Down will not mix with the cold blast
of ingratitude.

May the soft pillow I am going to repose on, shut not out from my mind
the load of obligations which rest on it!--The remembrance is balm to my
soul, either in my sleeping or waking hours.

Nine o'clock.

Scarce out of my bed half an hour!--How have I over-slept myself! Mrs.
Bennet has prevailed on Mr. Jenkings to have some breakfast.--Good,
considerate woman!--indeed, all your Ladyship's domestics are good and
considerate.--No wonder, when you treat them so very different from
_some people_ of high rank. Let those who complain of fraud, guilt,
negligence, or want of respect from their dependants, look in
here;--where they will see honesty, virtue, and reverence attend the
execution of every command.--Flowers must be planted before they can
take root.--Few, very few endeavour to improve an uncultivated soil,
notwithstanding how great the advantage is to the improver.

I last night receiv'd pleasure inexpressible, by sending for the
servants to acquaint them of your Ladyship's returning health; and
feasted on the satisfaction they expressed.--In a moment all the live
creatures were brought.--I am satisfied, my Lady, if any of them die in
your absence, it must be of fat.--My old acquaintances Bell and Flora
could hardly waddle in to pay their compliments; the parrot, which used
to squall the moment she saw me, is now quite dumb; shewing no mark of
her favour, but holding down her head to be scratched;--the turtle-doves
are in the same case.--I have taken the liberty to desire the whole crew
might be put to short allowance.

John said, he believed it was natural for every thing to grow fat here;
and was much afraid, when I saw the coach-horses, I should pronounce the
same hard sentence against them, desiring orders to attend me with the
carriage this morning.--I told him my stay would be so short, I should
have no time for an airing.

The gardener has just sent me a blooming nosegay; I suppose, to put me
in mind of visiting his care, which I intend, after I have acquainted
your Ladyship with an incident that till this moment had escaped my
memory.--The Dean, Mr. Jenkings, and myself, were drinking a cup of
chocolate before we sat out from the inn where I had been so much
hurried, when captain Risby sent in his name, desiring we would admit
him for a moment. His request being assented to, he entered very
respectfully, said he came to apologize for the rudeness he was guilty
of the last night.--The Dean and Mr. Jenkings presently guessed his
meaning; I had been just relating the whole affair, which I was pleased
to find did not disturb their rest.--I assured Captain Risby, far from
deeming his behaviour rude, I was obliged to him for his solicitude in
sending a servant to my chamber.