"Here is a fuss about trifles," said I. "Why cannot we take these things as the Frenchwomen do? _Ça lui fait tant de plaisir! pendant que ça me coûte si peu!_ That is the way they argue, and very philosophically too. Your sin has been bringing all these children into the world; and now, _coûte qu'il coûte_, you must provide for them, to the extent of your power." I concluded here my very moral advice, and took my leave, promising to join her in our Opera-box on the morrow evening. The next morning Mildmay called on me. He reproached me with having deceived and made a fool of him; but all he could say or do could not effect any change of my sentiments in his favour. He had also professed to love Julia once, and how had he requited her? "Heaven defend me from the like humiliation," thought I, "which I should richly deserve, were I to encourage this cold-hearted, profligate, beautiful Sir Henry." As soon as I contrived to get rid of him and had dined, I went to join Julia at the Opera House. The first man who came into my box was Fred Lamb; he appeared delighted to see me. "When did you come to town?" I asked. "This morning," Fred answered, "and I called on you; but you were either out or denied to me." "I passed the morning in my little library," answered I. "You have made me very wretched," whispered Fred Lamb, pressing my hand with much passionate agitation. He looked remarkably well. "Indeed, Fred," said I, "I did not mean it." "Remember your promise then," added Fred Lamb, "and do pray, dearest Harry, tell me, when you will throw away two whole days on me in the country." "What shall we do there?" "Get married," interposed Julia. "Married!" exclaimed Fred Lamb. "From my heart and soul, I shall pity the man who ever hopes to attach you, Harriette, to himself. You have the knack of torturing those who love you, beyond the possibility of endurance! Why not have told me at once that you did not mean to receive me?" "I meant well," answered I, sighing; for it never gave me any pleasure to be loved by those whose love I could not return. "Had you been my wife, by heavens, I should have murdered you long ago," said Fred Lamb, half seriously. "Why, yes," I replied, "I think, as yet, you had better not venture on me; but really, Fred, on the day I turn fifty I propose being steady, and then, perhaps----" "No," said Fred Lamb, "not a bit of it. You would only then, as now, be one day grateful for attentions and the next confess that you were sorry, advise one not to fret for a woman of fifty; but declare you had changed your mind." "If this is really my character, and you imagine I should act thus for ever towards every man, how can you be so very weak as to like me?" Lord Molyneux came into my box at this instant. I always made it a point to make violent love to Lord Molyneux, for the same reason that I used to say soft things to Luttrell: because they neither of them professed the least love to me.