In my _tête-à-têtes_ with Miss Warley, what think you are our subjects?--Chiefly divinity, history, and geography.--Of these studies she knows more than half the great men who have wrote for ages past.--On a taste for the two latter I once prided myself.--An eager pursuit for the former springs up in my mind, whilst conversing with her, like a plant long hid in the earth, and called out by the appearance of a summer's sun.--This sun must shine at Faulcon Park;--without it all will be dreary:--_yet_ how can I draw it thither?--_Edmund_--but why should I fear _Edmund?_ Will you, or will you not, meet your old friend Finch here next Wednesday?--Be determined in your answer.--I have suspence enough on my hands to be excused from any on your account.--Sir James thinks it unkind you have not called on him since I left England;--hasten therefore to make up matters with the baronet,--Need I say the pleasure I shall have in shaking you by the hand? DARCEY. LETTER VII. The Hon. GEORGE MOLESWORTH to Lord DARCEY. _Bath_. Wednesday next you shall see me,--positively you shall.--Bridgman will be of the party. I propose an immensity of satisfaction from this visit.--Forbid it, heaven! Miss Warley's opposite should again give me a meeting at the Abbey.--After the conversation I am made to expect, how should I be mortified to have my ears eternally dinn'd with catgut work,--painting gauze,--weaving fringes,--and finding out enigmas?--Setting a fine face, Miss Winter is out-done by Fletcher's Nancy.--A-propos, I yesterday saw that very wise girl step into a chaise and wheel off for Scotland, begging and praying we would make the best of it to her mamma.--Not the least hand had I in this affair; but, willing to help out people in distress, at the entreaties of Lord Michell, I waited on the old Lady at her lodging. I found her in a furious plight,--raving at her servants,--packing up her cloaths, and reflecting on her relations who had persuaded her to come to Bath.--When I entered she was kneeling by a huge travelling trunk, stuffing in a green purse at one corner, which I supposed to be full of gold. Where is Nancy?--riling from the ground, and accosting me with looks of fury;--Where is Nancy, Mr. Molesworth? Really, _Madam_, that is a question I cannot positively answer;--but, to be sincere, I believe she is on the road to Scotland. _Believe!_--So you would have me think you are not one of Fletcher's clan.--But, tell him from me, running to the trunk after her purse, and shaking it just at my ear,--_tell him_, he shall never be a penny the better for this. I took my hat, and looked towards the door, as if going. Stop, Mr. Molesworth, (her voice somewhat lowered) why in so great a hurry?--I once thought you my friend. Pray inform me if Nancy was forced away;--or, if me went willingly. You have no right, Madam, after the treatment I have received, to expect an answer; but justice bids me declare her going off seemed a matter of choice.