_If_ you are sincere in what you have said, _Miss Warley_; _if_ you are _really_ sincere, I do pronounce--Here he burst open the door, and flew out the instant Sir James and Lady Powis entered. When the tea was made, a footman was sent to Lord Darcey; but he was no where to be found. This is very strange, said her Ladyship; Lord Darcey never used to be out of the way at tea-time. I declare I am quite uneasy; perhaps he may be ill. Oh! cry'd Sir James, don't hurry yourself; I warrant he is got into one of his old reveries, and forgets the time. I was quite easy. I knew his abrupt departure was nothing but an air:--an air of consequence, I suppose.--However, I was willing to be convinced, so did not move till I saw the Gentleman sauntering up the lawn. As no one perceived him but myself, I slid out to the housekeeper, and told her, if her Lady enquir'd for me, I was gone home to write Letters by to-morrow's post. You have enough of it now, I believe, my dear Lady; two long letters by the same packet:--but you are the repository of my joy, my grief, the very inmost secrets of my soul.--You, my dear Lady, have the whole heart of F. WARLEY. LETTER XVIII. Lord DARCEY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH. _Barford Abbey_. Ruin'd and undone, as I hope for mercy!--undone too by my own egregious folly!--She is quite lost,--quite out of my power.--I wish Lord Allen had been in the bottom of the sea;--he can never make me amends;--no, if he was to die to-morrow and leave me his whole fortune.-- I told you he was to dine here yesterday.--I cannot be circumstantial.--He did dine here;--to my utter sorrow he did. Oh what a charming morning I spent!--Tho' my angel persisted in going to France, yet it was in a manner that made me love her, if possible, ten thousand times more than ever.--Good God! had you seen how she look'd!--But no matter now;--I must forget her angelical sweetness.--Forget did I say?--No, by heaven and earth--she lives in every corner of my heart.--I wish I had told her my whole soul.--I was going to tell her, if I had not been interrupted.--It is too late now.--She would not hear me: I see by her manners she would not hear me. She has learnt to look with indifference:--even smiles with indifference.--Why does she not frown? That would be joy to what her smiles afford.--I hate such smiles; they are darts dipp'd in poison.-- Lord Allen said he heard I was going to be marry'd:--_What was that to him?_--Sir James look'd displeased. To quiet _his_ fears I assured him--God! I know not what I assured _him_--something very foreign from my heart. She blushed when Sir James asked, to whom?--With what raptures did I behold her blushes!--But she shrunk at my answer.--I saw the colour leave her cheek, like a rose-bud fading beneath the hoary frost.