 so perfectly to my taste. Being at length replaced on my saddle, I would have bid him adieu, after expressing my gratitude, and so forth; but this his Lordship would by no means allow; he insisted on my giving him permission to see me safe home. Could I, Caroline, refuse? Having ordered the regiment to halt, away we rode in full review, all eyes fixed upon us, and not a few conjectures formed, I presume, by those we left behind.
It was during the course of this delightful bustle, I happily learned the name and rank of my conqueror, though had he

been the lowest subaltern of the corps, his charms would have produced no less effect; and greater is impossible, for I absolutely adore him, and so would you, could you get one single glance of his enchanting figure; for it is not merely the finest face in the world, it is his person—his manners—his language, the expression in his eyes, in short it is Sommervile altogether.
Well—and pray, you impertinently ask, does my Lord appear as sensible of your Ladyship's charms as you are avowedly of his? Impertinently, I say,—for what can be more so than to doubt it? Have I not already told you, he possesses every possible perfection? Of course taste to make proper distinctions must be of the number.—Yes yes, my dear I have the vanity to believe our passion is mutual—we are already on the most delightful footing, for you are not to imagine this is an affair of yesterday; no, my good friend, my time and thoughts were for the first ten days too happily employed to think of writing, nor would you now have been thus favoured had he not been absent; pray now, you cry, is this the first moment he has left you then,

since the adventure happened?—Why no, not absolutely—though it is pretty nearly the case—it would delight you could you be a witness to the envy this affair has given birth to in every female breast in the country—No doubt a dash of scandal to accompany it, for they generally are of the same party; but you know me too well to believe this will sit very heavy on my heart; let the dear creatures vent their spleen in any way most likely to relieve their gentle bosoms, with all my soul. My Sommerville and I look down upon them with eyes of pity from the summit of our felicity;—do not mistake me, however, Caroline—Matters are not yet quite so far arranged between us as you may probably take it into your head to fancy—my
