I touched first one hand, then the other, of the perverse baby with my lips--Now am I forgiven: now is my friend Beauchamp permitted to return to his native country: now are Sir Harry and his Lady reconciled--Come, come, madam, it must be so--What foolish things are the quarrels of married people!--They must come to an agreement again; and the sooner the better; before hard blows are struck, that will leave marks--Let us, dear madam, find out Sir Harry-- And then, with an air of vivacity, that women, whether in courtship or out of it, dislike not, I was leading her once more to the door, and, as I intended, to Sir Harry, wherever he could be found. Hold, hold, sir! resisting; but with features far more placid than she had suffered to be before visible--If I must be compelled--You are a strange man, Sir Charles Grandison--If I must be compelled to see Sir Harry--But you are a strange man--And she rang the bell. Lady Beauchamp, Dr. Bartlett, is one of those who would be more ready to forgive an innocent freedom, than to be gratified by a profound respect; otherwise I had not treated her with so little ceremony. Such women are formidable only to those who are afraid of their anger, or who make it a serious thing. But when the servant appeared, she not knowing how to condescend, I said, Go to your master, sir, and tell him that your lady requests the favour-- Requests the favour! repeated she; but in a low voice: which was no bad sign. The servant went with a message worded with more civility than perhaps he was used to carry to his master from his lady. Now, dear Lady Beauchamp, for your own sake; for Sir Harry's sake; make happy; and be happy. Are there not, dear madam, unhappinesses enow in life, that we must wilfully add to them? Sir Harry came in sight. He stalked towards us with a parade like that of a young officer wanting to look martial at the head of his company. Could I have seen him before he entered, my work would have been easier. But his hostile air disposed my lady to renew hostilities. She turned her face aside, then her person; and the cloudy indignation with which she entered at first, again overspread her features. Ought wrath, Dr. Bartlett, to be so ready to attend a female will?--Surely, thought I, my lady's present airs, after what has passed between her and me, can be only owing to the fear of making a precedent, and being thought too easily persuaded. Sir Harry, said I, addressing myself to him, I have obtained Lady Beauchamp's pardon for the officious letter-- Pardon, Sir Charles Grandison! You are a good man, and it was kindly intended-- He was going on: anger from his eyes flashed upon his cheek-bones, and made them shine. My lady's eyes struck fire at Sir Harry, and shewed that she was not afraid of him.