tionate Uncle
M.

LETTER LIII

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
THURSDAY, MAY 25.

Thou seest, Belford, how we now drive before the wind.--The dear creature
now comes almost at the first word, whenever I desire the honour of her
company. I told her last night, that apprehending delay from Pritchard's
slowness, I was determined to leave it to my Lord to make his compliments
in his own way; and had actually that afternoon put my writings into the
hands of a very eminent lawyer, Counsellor Willians, with directions for
him to draw up settlements from my own estate, and conformably to those
of my mother! which I put into his hands at the same time. It had been,
I assured her, no small part of my concern, that her frequent
displeasure, and our mutual misapprehensions, had hindered me from
advising with her before on this subject. Indeed, indeed, my dearest
life, said I, you have hitherto afforded me but a very thorny courtship.

She was silent. Kindly silent. For well know I, that she could have
recriminated upon me with a vengeance. But I was willing to see if she
were not loth to disoblige me now. I comforted myself, I said, with the
hopes that all my difficulties were now over; and that every past
disobligations would be buried in oblivion.

Now, Belford, I have actually deposited these writings with Counsellor
Williams; and I expect the draughts in a week at farthest. So shall be
doubly armed. For if I attempt, and fail, these shall be ready to throw
in, to make her have patience with me till I can try again.

I have more contrivances still in embryo. I could tell thee of an
hundred, and yet hold another hundred in petto, to pop in as I go along,
to excite thy surprize, and to keep up thy attention. Nor rave thou at
me; but, if thou art my friend, think of Miss Howe's letters, and of her
smuggling scheme. All owing to my fair captive's informations
incitements. Am I not a villain, a fool, a Beelzebub, with them already?
--Yet no harm done by me, nor so much as attempted?

Every thing of this nature, the dear creature answered, (with a downcast
eye, and a blushing cheek,) she left to me.

I proposed my Lord's chapel for the celebration, where we might have the
presence of Lady Betty, Lady Sarah, and my two cousins Montague.

She seemed not to favour a public celebration! and waved this subject for
the present. I doubted not but she would be as willing as I to decline a
public wedding; so