If I do, madam, what must I deserve?--To be shut out from your confidence is a punishment only fit for such a breach of trust.--But, for heaven's sake, do not _hate_ Lord Darcey. Mr. Jenkings appeared at this juncture, and look'd displeas'd.--How strangely are we given to mistakes!--I betray'd the same confusion, as if I had been really carrying on a clandestine affair with his son.--In a very angry tone he said, I thought, Edmund, you was to assist me, knowing how much I had on my hands, before Lord Darcey sets out;--but I find business is not _your_ pursuit:--I believe I must consent to your going into the army, after all.--On which he button'd up his coat, and went towards the Abbey, leaving me quite thunderstruck. Poor Edmund was as much chagrined as myself.--A moment after I saw Mr. Jenkings returning with a countenance very different,--and taking me apart from his son, said, I cannot forgive myself, my dear young Lady;--can you forgive me for the rudeness I have just committed?--I am an old man, Miss Warley;--I have many things to perplex me;--I should not,--I know I should _not_, have spoke so sharply to Edmund, when you had honour'd him with your company. I made him easy by my answer; and since I have not seen a cloud on his brow.--I shall never think more, with concern, of Mr. Jenkings's suspicions.--Your Ladyship's last letter,--oh! how sweetly tender! tells me _he_ has _motives_ to which _I_ am a stranger. We spent a charming day, last Monday, at Lord Allen's. Most of the neighbouring families were met there, to commemorate the happy festival.--Mr. Morgan made one of the party, and return'd with us to the Abbey, where he proposes waiting the arrival of his godson, Mr. Powis.--If I have any penetration, most of his fortune will center _there_,--For my part, I am not a little proud of stealing into his good graces:--I don't know for what, but Lady Powis tells me, I am one of his first favourites; he has presented me a pretty little grey horse, beautifully caparison'd; and hopes he says, to make me a good horsewoman. As I have promis'd to be at the Abbey early, I shall close this letter; and, if I have an opportunity, will write another by the same packet.--Believe me ever, my dearest Lady, your most grateful and affectionate F. WARLEY. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. BARFORD ABBEY, A NOVEL: IN A SERIES of LETTERS. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. MDCCLXVIII. BARFORD ABBEY. LETTER XXIII. Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON. _from Mr. Jenkings's_. Oh what a designing man is Lord Darcey!--He loves me not, yet fain would persuade me that he does.--When I went yesterday morning to the Abbey, I met him in my way to Lady Powis's dressing-room.--Starting as if he had seen an apparition, and with a look which express'd great importance, he said, taking my hand, Oh! Miss Warley, I have had the most dreadful night!--but I hope _you_ have rested well. I have rested very well, my Lord; what has disturb'd your Lordship's rest?