of very serious consequences. Well then, pleased as I was with Sir William's ready compliance with my request of returning, suppose me seated in my chair, and giving way to some hopes that he would yet see his errors, and some method be pitched on to relieve all. He was ready to hand me out of the chair, and led me up stairs into my dressing-room. I had taken off my mask, as it was very warm; he still kept his on, and talked in the same kind of voice he practised at the masquerade. He paid me most profuse compliments on the beauty of my dress, and, throwing his arms round my waist, congratulated himself on possessing such an angel, at the same time kissing my face and bosom with such a strange kind of eagerness as made me suppose he was intoxicated; and, under that idea, being very desirous of disengaging myself from his arms, I struggled to get away from him. He pressed me to go to bed; and, in short, his behaviour was unaccountable: at last, on my persisting to intreat him to let me go, he blew out one of the candles. I then used all my force, and burst from him, and at that instant his mask gave way; and in the dress of my husband, (Oh, Louisa! judge, if you can, of my terror) I beheld that villain Lord Biddulph. "Curse on my folly!" cried he, "that I could not restrain my raptures till I had you secure." "Thou most insolent of wretches!" said I, throwing the most contemptuous looks at him, "how dared you assume the dress of my husband, to treat me with such indignity?" While I spoke, I rang the bell with some violence. He attempted to make some apology for his indiscretion, urging the force of his passion, the power of my charms, and such stuff. I stopped him short, by telling him, the only apology I should accept would be his instantly quitting the house, and never insulting me again with his presence. With a most malignant sneer on his countenance, he said, "I might indeed have supposed my caresses were disagreeable, when offered under the character of an husband; I had been more blest, at least better received, had I worn the dress of the Baron. All men, Lady Stanley, are not so blind as Sir William." I felt myself ready to expire with confusion and anger at his base insinuation. "Your hint," said I, "is as void of truth as you are of honour; I despise both equally; but would advise you to be cautious how you dare traduce characters so opposite to your own."