ista had addressed to me. And we found, upon
comparing letters, that whole passages of eloquence figured in the
one correspondence which appeared in the other. See what it is to be a
blue-stocking and have a love of letter-writing!

The young man put down the papers in great perturbation. 'Well, thank
Heaven!' said he, after a pause of some duration,--'thank Heaven for
a good riddance! Ah, Mr. Barry, what a woman I MIGHT have married had
these lucky papers not come in my way! I thought my Lady Lyndon had a
heart, sir, I must confess, though not a very warm one; and that, at
least, one could TRUST her. But marry her now! I would as lief send
my servant into the street to get me a wife, as put up with such an
Ephesian matron as that.'

'My Lord George,' said I, 'you little know the world. Remember what a
bad husband Lady Lyndon had, and don't be astonished that she, on her
side, should be indifferent. Nor has she, I will dare to wager, ever
passed beyond the bounds of harmless gallantry, or sinned beyond the
composing of a sonnet or a billet-doux.'

'My wife,' said the little lord, 'shall write no sonnets or
billets-doux; and I'm heartily glad to think I have obtained, in good
time, a knowledge of the heartless vixen with whom I thought myself for
a moment in love.'

The wounded young nobleman was either, as I have said, very young and
green in matters of the world--for to suppose that a man would give up
forty thousand a year, because, forsooth, the lady connected with it had
written a few sentimental letters to a young fellow, is too absurd--or,
as I am inclined to believe, he was glad of an excuse to quit the field
altogether, being by no means anxious to meet the victorious sword of
Redmond Barry a second time.

When the idea of Poynings' danger, or the reproaches probably addressed
by him to the widow regarding myself, had brought this exceedingly weak
and feeble woman up to Dublin, as I expected, and my worthy Ulick had
informed me of her arrival, I quitted my good mother, who was quite
reconciled to me (indeed the duel had done that), and found the
disconsolate Calista was in the habit of paying visits to the wounded
swain; much to the annoyance, the servants told me, of that gentleman.
The English are often absurdly high and haughty upon a point of
punctilio; and, after his kinswoman's conduct, Lord Poynings swore he
would have no more to do with her.

I had this information from his Lordship's gentleman; w