temper; that I did not expect he would tell me the
cause, but would be glad to see he was in better; and one thing I warned
him of, never to appear cold to me, for I would not be treated like a
schoolboy; that I had felt too much of that in my life already (meaning
from Sir William Temple); that I expected every great Minister who
honoured me with his acquaintance, if he heard or saw anything to my
disadvantage, would let me know it in plain words, and not put me in
pain to guess by the change or coldness of his countenance or behaviour;
for it was what I would hardly bear from a crowned head, and I thought
no subject's favour was worth it; and that I designed to let my Lord
Keeper(21) and Mr. Harley know the same thing, that they might use me
accordingly. He took all right; said I had reason; vowed nothing ailed
him but sitting up whole nights at business, and one night at drinking;
would have had me dine with him and Mrs. Masham's brother, to make up
matters; but I would not. I don't know, but I would not. But indeed I
was engaged with my old friend Rollinson;(22) you never heard of him
before.

4. I sometimes look a line or two back, and see plaguy mistakes of the
pen; how do you get over them? You are puzzled sometimes. Why, I think
what I said to Mr. Secretary was right. Don't you remember how I used to
be in pain when Sir William Temple would look cold and out of humour
for three or four days, and I used to suspect a hundred reasons? I have
plucked up my spirit since then, faith; he spoilt a fine gentleman. I
dined with my neighbour Vanhomrigh, and MD, poor MD, at home on a loin
of mutton and half a pint of wine, and the mutton was raw, poor Stella
could not eat, poor dear rogue, and Dingley was so vexed; but we will
dine at Stoyte's to-morrow. Mr. Harley promised to see me in a day or
two, so I called this evening; but his son and others were abroad, and
he asleep, so I came away, and found out Mrs. Vedeau. She drew out a
letter from Dingley, and said she would get a friend to receive the
money. I told her I would employ Mr. Tooke in it henceforward. Her
husband bought a lieutenancy of foot, and is gone to Portugal. He sold
his share of the shop to his brother, and put out the money to maintain
her, all but what bought the commission. She lodges within two doors
of her brother. She told me it made her very melancholy to change her
manner of life thus, but trade was dead, etc. She says she will write to
you soon.