 every one of yours, for their single sakes, are of to me,

superadded to the tenderest attachments to one dear person of it.
I found the gentleman in a less happy disposition than I expected.
It is with inexpressible reluctance that he thinks, as my happy day draws near, of giving up all hopes of an object so dear to him. He seemed strangely balancing on this subject, when I was introduced to him. He instantly proposed to me, and with some fierceness, that I would suspend all thoughts of marriage for two months to come, or at least for one. I received his request with proper indignation. He pretended to give reasons respecting himself: I allowed not of them.
After some canvassings, he swore, that he would be complied with in something. His alternative was, the dining with him, and with some of his chosen friends, whom he had invited.
I have reason to think these friends are those to whom he expressed himself with violence at the George, as overheard, I suppose, by the waiter there.
He rode out, he owned, yesterday morning, with intent to meet me; for he boasts that he knows all my motions, and those of a certain beloved young Lady. Let him; let every-body, who think it their concern to watch our steps, be made acquainted with them: The honest heart aims not at secrets. I should glory in receiving Miss Byron's hand, from yours, Sir, before ten thousand witnesses.
Mr. Greville had rode out the night before; he did not say to meet me; but he knew I was expected at Selby-house, either on Monday night, or yesterday morning: And on his return, not meeting me, he and his friends passed their night at the George, as mentioned, and rode out together in the morning—In hopes of meeting me, he said; and to engage me to suspend my happy day. Poor man! Had he been in his right mind, he could not have hoped (had he met

me on the road) to have been heard on such a subject.
An act of oblivion, and thorough reconciliation, he calls it, is to pass, in presence of his expected friends.
You will not take notice of what I have hinted at, out of the family, whatever was designed.
In the temper he would have found me in, had he met me, nothing unhappy could have happened; for he is really to be pitied.
We are now perfect friends. He is full of good wishes
