You are not angry, my pretty Lady, continued he:--we shall know one another better;--but if you displease me,--I shall thunder.--I keep all in subjection, except the _muleish kind_, making a low bow to Sir James. Saying this, he went in pursuit of Mr. Watson.--They soon re-enter'd together; a card-table was produc'd; and we sat down at it, whilst they solac'd themselves by a good fire. My attention was frequently taken from the cards, to observe how it was possible such opposites as Mr. Watson and Mr. Morgan cou'd be entertain'd by one another's conversation.--Never saw I any two seemingly more happy!--The chearfulness of the former augmented;--the voice of the latter at least three notes lower.--This has been since explain'd to me by Lady Powis.--Mr. Morgan, she says, notwithstanding his rough appearance, is of a nature so compassionate, that, to people defective in person or fortune, he is the gentlest creature breathing. Our party broke up at nine.--I sat half an hour after supper, then propos'd returning to Mr. Jenkings's.--Lady Powis would not hear me on this subject--I must stay that night at the Abbey:--venturing out such weather would hazard my health.--So said Sir James; so said Lord Darcey.--As for Mr. Morgan, he swore, Was he the former, his horses should not stir out for fifty pieces, unless, said he, Sir James chooses to be a fellow-sufferer with Lord Allen, who I have led such a chace this day, that he was forced to leave poor Snip on the forest.--Saying which, he threw himself back in the chair, and fell into a sound sleep.--About eleven I retir'd to my chamber;--a message first being sent to Mr. Jenkings.--Instead of going immediately to bed, I sat down and indulg'd myself with the satisfaction of writing to my beloved Lady Mary.--This morning I got up early to finish my packet; and though I have spent half an hour with Mr. Jenkings, shall close it before her Ladyship is stirring. Your commands, my dear Lady, are executed.--I have wrote Mrs. Smith; and as soon as I receive her answer, shall, with a joyful heart, with impatient fondness, prepare to throw at your Ladyship's feet, Your much honour'd, and affectionate, F. WARLEY. LETTER IV. Lord DARCEY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH. _Barford Abbey_. Prepare your ten pieces, George!--Upon my honour, I was at Barford Abbey a quarter before three, notwithstanding a detention on the road by Lord Michell and Flecher, driving on Jehu for Bath, in his Lordship's phaeton and fix.--You have seen them before this,--and, I suppose, know their errand.--The girl is an egregious fool, that is certain.--I warrant there are a hundred bets depending.--I ask'd what he intended doing with her if he succeeded?--_Do_ with her! said his Lordship; why, she is not more than eighteen; let her go to school: faith, Flecher, that's my advice.--_Let her go_ to the devil after I am once sure of her, return'd the lover; and, whipping up the horses; drove away like lightning.