When I consider'd Lord Darcey's tender regard for my future, as well as present peace,--how could I reflect on him without gratitude?--When I consider'd his perplexities, I thought thus:--they arise from some entanglement, in which his heart is not engag'd.--Had he confided in me, I should not have weaken'd his resolutions;--I would no more wish him to be guilty of a breach of honour, than surrender myself to infamy.--I would have endeavour'd to persuade him _she_ is amiable, virtuous, and engaging.--If I had been successful, I would have _frown'd_ when he _smil'd_;--I would have been _gay_ when he seem'd _oppress'd_--I would have been _reserv'd, peevish, supercilicus_;--in short, I would have counterfeited the very reverse of what was likely to draw him from a former attachment. To live without him must be my fate; since that is almost inevitable, I would have strove to have secur'd his happiness, whilst mine had remain'd to chance.--These reflections kept me awake 'till six; when I fell into a profound sleep, which lasted 'till ten; at which time I was awaken'd by Mrs. Jenkings to tell me Lord Darcey was below; with an apology, that she had made breakfast, as her husband was preparing, in great haste, to attend his Lordship. This was a hint he was not to stay long; so I put on my cloaths with expedition; and going down, took with me my whole stock of resolution; but I carried it no farther than the bottom of the stairs;--there it flew from me;--never have I seen it since:--that it rested not in the breast of Lord Darcey, was visible;--rather it seem'd as if his and mine had taken a flight together. I stood with the lock of the door in my hand more than a minute, in hopes my inward flutterings would abate.--His Lordship heard my footstep, and flew to open it;--I gave him my hand, without knowing what I did;--joy sparkled in his eyes and he prest it to his breast with a fervour that cover'd me with confusion. He saw what he had done,--He dropp'd it respectfully, and inquiring tenderly for my health, ask'd if I would honour him with my commands before he sat out for Town?--What a fool was I!--Lord bless me!--can I ever forget my folly? What do you think, my Lady! I did not speak;--no! I could not answer;--I was _silent_;--I was _silent_, when I would have given the world for one word.--When I did speak, it was not to Lord Darcey, but, still all fool, turn'd and said to Mr. Jenkings, who was looking over a parchment, How do you find yourself, Sir? Will not the journey you are going to take on horseback be too fatiguing? No, no, my good Lady; it is an exercise I have all my life been us'd to: to-morrow you will see me return the better for it.