Was not that tender?--Yet out went Lord and Lady L----. To be sure they did right, if they withdrew in hopes these kind words would have been received as reconciliatory ones; and not in displeasure with me, as I am half-afraid they did: for their good-nature (worthy souls!) does sometimes lead them into misapprehensions. I kindly laid my hand on his arm again.--He was ungracious.--Nay, my lord, don't once more reject me with disdain--If you do--I then smiled most courteously. Carry not your absurdities, my lord, too far: and I took his hand:--[There, Harriet, was condescension!]--I protest, sir, if you give yourself any more of these airs, you will not find me so condescending. Come, come, tell me you are sorry, and I will forgive you. Sorry! madam; sorry!--I am indeed sorry, for your provoking airs! Why that's not ill said--But kimboed arms, my lord! are you not sorry for such an air? And Oons! are you not sorry for such a word? and for such looks too? and for quarreling with your dinner?--I protest, my lord, you make one of us look like a child who flings away his bread and butter because it has not glass windows upon it-- Not for one moment forbear, madam!-- Pr'ythee, pr'ythee--[I profess I had like to have said honest friend]--No more of these airs; and, I tell you, I will forgive you. But, madam, I cannot, I will not-- Hush, hush; no more in that strain, and so loud, as if we had lost each other in a wood--If you will let us be friends, say so--In an instant--If not, I am gone--gone this moment--casting off from him, as I may say, intending to mount up stairs. Angel, or demon, shall I call you? said he.--Yet I receive your hand, as offered. But, for God's sake, madam, let us be happy! And he kissed my hand, but not so cordially as it became him to do; and in came Lord and Lady L---- with countenances a little ungracious. I took my seat next my own man, with an air of officiousness, hoping to oblige him by it; and he was obliged: and another day, not yet quite agreed upon, this parade is to be made. And thus began, proceeded, and ended, this doughty quarrel. And who knows, but before the day is absolutely resolved upon, we may have half a score more? Four, five, six days, as it may happen, is a great space of time for people to agree, who are so much together; and one of whom is playful, and the other will not be played with. But these kimbo and oons airs, Harriet, stick a little in my stomach; and the man seems not to be quite come to neither. He is sullen and gloomy, and don't prate away as he used to do, when we have made up before. But I will sing him a song to-morrow: I will please the honest man, if I can. But he really should not have had for a wife a woman of so sweet a temper as your CHARLOTTE G----. LETTER XLII LADY G----, TO MISS BYRON MONDAY, MAY 8.