And again:— “_The Fatal Interview_ has been played three times, and is quite done with; it was the dullest of all representations. Pratty’s Epilogue was vastly applauded indeed. I shall take care how I get into such another play; but I fancy the managers will take care of that, too. _They won’t let me play in Pratty’s comedy._” All this shows us how often she was the victim of undeserved resentment on the part of slighted authors, and how, very often, the fact of doing a kindness got her into trouble. She had accepted _The Fatal Interview_, and now Pratt thought himself aggrieved that she would not do the same for him. Most likely at any other time she would have shrugged her shoulders at Pratt’s machinations, but everything now hurt her wounded sensibilities. “I must beg you will not mention (I believe I am giving an unnecessary caution) anything I have told you concerning Mr. Pratt. I would not wish him to know, by any means, that I have been informed of his last unkindness, because it might prevent his asking me to do him a favour, which I shall be at all times ready to grant, when in my power. I must tell you that after the very unkind letter he sent me, in answer to mine requesting the ten pounds, I never wrote to or heard from him until about three months ago, when he wrote to me as if he had never offered such an indignity, recommending a work he had just finished to my attention. He did not tell me what this work was, but I had heard it was a tragedy. To be made a convenient acquaintance only, did not much gratify me; but, however, I wrote to say he knew the resolution I had been obliged to make (having made many enemies by reading some, and not being able to give time to read all tragedies) to read nobody’s tragedy, and then no one could take offence; but that if it were accepted by the managers, and there was anything that I could be of service to him in (doing justice to myself), that I should be very happy to serve him. I have heard nothing of him since that time till within these few days, when he wrote to my sister Fanny, accusing me of ingratitude, and calling himself the ladder upon which I have mounted to fame, and which I am kicking down. “What he means by ingratitude I am at a loss to guess, and I fancy he would be puzzled to explain; our obligations were always, I believe, pretty mutual. However, in this letter to Fanny, he says he is going to publish a poem called _Gratitude_, in which he means to show my avarice and meanness, and all the rest of my amiable qualities to the world, for having dropped him, as he calls it, so injuriously, and banishing him my house. Now, as I hope for mercy, I permitted his visits at my house, after having discovered that he was taking every possible method to attach my sister to him, which, you may be sure, he took pains to conceal from us, and I had him to my parties long after I made this discovery.