ell you,] I [can hardly] bear [to think,] that these
libertines should be rewarded for their villany with the best of the sex,
when the worst of it are too good for them.

* See Letter XX. of this volume.

I shall send this long letter by Collins,* who changes his day to oblige
me. As none of our letters by Wilson's conveyance have miscarried, when
you have been in more apparently-disagreeable situations than you are in
at present, [I have no doubt] that this will go safe.

* See Letter XX. of this volume.

Miss Lardner* (whom you have seen hat her cousin Biddulph's) saw you at
St. James's church on Sunday was fortnight. She kept you in her eye
during the whole time; but could not once obtain the notice of your's,
though she courtesied to you twice. She thought to pay her compliments
to you when the service was over; for she doubted not but you were
married--and for an odd reason--because you came to church by yourself.
Every eye, (as usual, wherever you are,) she said was upon you; and this
seeming to give you hurry, and you being nearer the door than she, you
slid out before she could get to you. But she ordered her servant to
follow you till you were housed. This servant saw you step into a chair
which waited for you; and you ordered the men to carry you to the place
where they took you up. She [describes the house] as a very genteel
house, and fit to receive people of fashion: [and what makes me mention
this, is, that perhaps you will have a visit from her; or message, at
least.]

* See Letter XX. of this volume.

[So that you have Mr. Doleman's testimony to the credit of the house
and people you are with; and he is] a man of fortune, and some
reputation; formerly a rake indeed; but married to a woman of family;
and having had a palsy blow, one would think a penitent.* You have [also
Mr. Mennell's at least passive testimony; Mr.] Tomlinson's; [and now,
lastly, Miss Lardner's; so that there will be the less need for inquiry:
but you know my busy and inquisitive temper, as well as my affection for
you, and my concern for your honour. But all doubt will soon be lost in
certainty.]

[Nevertheless I must add, that I would have you] command me up, if I can
be of the least service or pleasure to you.* I value not fame; I value
not censure; nor even life itself, I verily think, as I do your honour,
and your friendship--For is not your honour my honour? And is not your
friendship the pride of my