The servant returned once more, with one of his lordship's printed cards, assuring me the gentleman in the parlour was walking about in a great passion. I desired him to be shown upstairs; and, when he entered, I stood up, as though waiting to hear why he intruded on me. "I believe, madam," said his lordship, "some apology is due to you from me." "Are you going to tell me that you were tipsy, when you last did me the favour to mistake my house for an inn, or something worse?" "No! certainly not," answered the peer. "Were you quite sober?" "Perfectly." "Then your late conduct admits of no apology, and you could offer none which would not humble and greatly wound my pride, to avoid which I must take the liberty of wishing you a good morning." I then rang my bell and left him. More than a month had now elapsed since Lord Ponsonby left London, and I perceived no signs of his return. Yet I never forgot him, although half the fine young men in town were trying to please me. Amy continued to give her parties, but soberly; that is to say, Sydenham insisted on having his house quiet before three in the morning. One evening, when Fanny and Julia dined with me, I got up from my table to open my window, and I saw Lord Ponsonby, who was slowly riding by my house, with his face turned towards my window. This time there could be no doubt as to his blushing. My happiness was now of a nature too pure to be trifled with, and I know I could not endure to have it intruded on by any commonplace remarks. I kept his appearance therefore a profound secret; although I found it the most difficult thing possible to talk on any other subject, I thought these women never would have left me. They took their leave however at last; but not till near twelve o'clock. I could not sleep a wink all night! At nine the next morning I rang my bell, being quite worn out with attempting it. My maid entered my room with a letter, which had just arrived by the twopenny post. It was as follows; "I have long been very desirous to make your acquaintance: will you let me? A friend of mine has told me something about you; but I am afraid you were then only laughing at me; _et il se peut, qu'un homme passé, ne soit bon que pour cela!_ I hope, at all events, that you will write me one line, to say you forgive me, and direct it to my house in town. "P."