such cases—he stormed at his servants; but, on entering the house, consolation awaited him. A parcel was placed in his hands, which had been left with most particular directions that it should be given to him immediately. He was half-inclined, from pettish obstinacy not to open it; but curiosity pervaded: and curiosity, like virtue, was its own reward.
It contained a key, and a note from Lady Marchmont, entreating him to forgive what she called her petulance that evening at the fête; and bidding him come to tell her that she was still loved. He was to enter through the little garden gate, and, ascending by the balcony steps, would, in five moments, reach the dressing-room, where he would find her alone.
There was a postscript—"By the by, a secretary of yours has made a great merit of giving me the letters I wrote to you: of course he stole them: we must concert some means of securing his silence."
"So I owe her submission half to fear—a useful lesson as regards women in future. I
