, it would not be difficult to induce her to strip
naked, without ever reflecting upon what she was doing. After all, a man
must be very insensible to remain unconcerned and unmoved on such happy
occasions; and, besides, the good opinion we entertain of ourselves is
apt to make us think a woman is smitten, as soon as she distinguishes us
by habitual familiarity, which most commonly signifies nothing. This is
the truth of the matter with respect to myself: my own presumption, her
beauty, the brilliant station that sets it off, and a thousand kind
things she had said to me, prevented me from making serious reflections;
but then, as some excuse for my folly, I must likewise tell you, that the
facility I found in making her the tenderest declarations by commending
her, and her telling me in confidence a thousand things which she ought
not to have entrusted me with, might have deceived or infatuated any
other man as well as myself.

"I presented her with one of the prettiest horses in England. You know
what peculiar grace and elegance distinguish her on horseback. The king,
who, of all the diversions of the chase, likes none but hawking, because
it is the most convenient for the ladies, went out the other day to take
this amusement, attended by all the beauties of his court. His majesty
having galloped after a falcon, and the whole bright squadron after him,
the rustling of Miss Stewart's petticoats frightened her horse, which was
at full speed, endeavouring to come up with mine, that had been his
companion; so that I was the only witness of a disorder in her clothes,
which displayed a thousand new beauties to my view. I had the good
fortune to make such gallant and flattering exclamations upon that
charming disorder as to prevent her being concerned or out of countenance
upon it: on the contrary, this subject of my admiration has been
frequently since the subject of our conversation, and did not seem to
displease her.

"Old Lord Carlingford, and that mad fellow, Crofts (for I must now make
you my general confession), those insipid buffoons, were frequently
telling her some diverting stories, which passed pretty well with the
help of a few old threadbare jests, or some apish tricks in the recital,
which made her laugh heartily. As for myself, who know no stories, and
do not possess the talent of improving them by telling, if I did know
any, I was often greatly embarrassed when she desired me to tell her one:
'I do not know