was rejoicing at the christening of an heir to the estate and title, the young Countess Theodosia having been brought to bed near six weeks.
My father requested to see the old Count on particular business, and was shown into an apartment to wait for him. In a few moments he appeared, and started on seeing the person before him, who, endeavouring to calm his passions, desired he would wave all former animosity, and hear him on an affair which concerned their mutual honour. The other, with a mixture of surprise and haughtiness, requested he would be seated, and hasten what he had to say, as he was particularly engaged with company. My father then drew out my first circumstantial letter, and gave it to him, saying, "read that, Sir, with candour, and give no answer until you have gone through it.—Although we are not friends, yet I trust you are a man of honour."
The Count looked hastily over the letter, several times smiling with an air of disdain and triumph, which the other could ill
