"Lord Lorne may have gained Harriette's heart," said Mrs. Porter, just as if she understood the game of hearts! "However," added she, "I will not give up the business till I have had an interview with Harriette." "And make haste about it," said Wellington taking up his hat, "I shall call for your answer in two days. In the meantime, if you have anything like good news to communicate, address a line to Thomas's Hotel, Berkeley-square." These two respectable friends now took leave of each other, as we will of the subject, _pour le moment, au moins._ I rather think it must have been on the very day the above scene took place that Fanny, Julia, and myself dined together at my house, and Amy unasked joined us after dinner; because she had nothing better to do. "You are welcome," said I to Amy, "so that you bring me no men; but men I will not admit." "Why not?" Amy inquired. "Why? because I am not a coquette like you, and it fatigues me to death to be eternally making the agreeable to a set of men who might be all buried and nobody would miss them. Besides, I have seen such a man!" "What manner of man have you seen?" asked Fanny. "A very god!" retorted I. "Who is he?" inquired Amy. "I do not know," was my answer. "What is his name?" "I cannot tell." "Where did you see him?" "In Sloane Street, riding on horseback, and followed by a large dog." "What a simpleton you are," observed Amy. "I never made myself so ridiculous about any man yet," I observed, "as you have done about that frightful, pale, William Ponsonby." "Oh, he is indeed a most adorable heavenly creature," rejoined Amy, turning up her eyes in a fit of heroics. "Good gracious! how can people be so blind," exclaimed I. "Why he has not a single point of beauty about him." "And what," I continued, "have you done with Palmella?" "Oh!" replied Amy, in some little confusion, "I have never seen him since." "Did you send the letter I wrote for you?" "Yes," answered Amy. "And did he send you the two hundred pounds?" "Directly," rejoined Amy, "with a letter full of professions of the deepest gratitude." "And where is that poor dear little man now?" inquired I. "God knows!" replied Amy. "I have been denied to him ever since. Sydenham has been telling me that I am too beautiful, and it would really be too great a sacrifice for me to throw myself away on Palmella." "Did Sydenham say your returning the two hundred pounds would be too great a sacrifice also?" "No! but I have spent it." It was now growing late, and we separated. CHAPTER IV The next morning my servant informed me that a lady desired to speak a word to me. Her name was Porter. "You are come to scold me for sending my old nurse to console the general?" said I, when I entered the room where she was waiting. "Not at all, my dear, wild young lady," answered Mrs. Porter; "but I am now come to inform you that you have made the conquest of a very fine, noble, unexceptionable man."