e yourself any more of these
airs, you will not find me so condescending. Come, come, tell me you are
sorry, and I will forgive you.

Sorry! madam; sorry!--I am indeed sorry, for your provoking airs!

Why that's not ill said--But kimboed arms, my lord! are you not sorry for
such an air? And Oons! are you not sorry for such a word? and for such
looks too? and for quarreling with your dinner?--I protest, my lord, you
make one of us look like a child who flings away his bread and butter
because it has not glass windows upon it--

Not for one moment forbear, madam!--

Pr'ythee, pr'ythee--[I profess I had like to have said honest friend]--No
more of these airs; and, I tell you, I will forgive you.

But, madam, I cannot, I will not--

Hush, hush; no more in that strain, and so loud, as if we had lost each
other in a wood--If you will let us be friends, say so--In an instant--If
not, I am gone--gone this moment--casting off from him, as I may say,
intending to mount up stairs.

Angel, or demon, shall I call you? said he.--Yet I receive your hand, as
offered. But, for God's sake, madam, let us be happy! And he kissed my
hand, but not so cordially as it became him to do; and in came Lord and
Lady L---- with countenances a little ungracious.

I took my seat next my own man, with an air of officiousness, hoping to
oblige him by it; and he was obliged: and another day, not yet quite
agreed upon, this parade is to be made.

And thus began, proceeded, and ended, this doughty quarrel. And who
knows, but before the day is absolutely resolved upon, we may have half a
score more? Four, five, six days, as it may happen, is a great space of
time for people to agree, who are so much together; and one of whom is
playful, and the other will not be played with. But these kimbo and oons
airs, Harriet, stick a little in my stomach; and the man seems not to be
quite come to neither. He is sullen and gloomy, and don't prate away as
he used to do, when we have made up before.

But I will sing him a song to-morrow: I will please the honest man, if I
can. But he really should not have had for a wife a woman of so sweet a
temper as your

CHARLOTTE G----.

LETTER XLII

LADY G----, TO MISS BYRON
MONDAY, MAY 8.

My lord and I have had another little--Tiff, shall I call it? It came
not up to a quarrel. Married people would have enough to do, if they
were to trouble their friends every time they misunderstood one another.
And now a