ew words she had spoken were
accompanied with such an air, and such a look, as to make him believe
that it was Venus with all her graces who had addressed him. He was near
her when she sat down to cards, and as he was puzzling himself to devise
by what means he should get this answer, she desired him to lay her
gloves and fan down somewhere: he took them, and with them the billet
in question; and as he had perceived nothing severe or angry in the
conversation he had with her, he hastened to open her letter, and read
as follows:

"Your transports are so ridiculous that it is doing you a favour to
attribute them to an excess of tenderness, which turns your head: a man,
without doubt, must have a great inclination to be jealous, to entertain
such an idea of the person you mention. Good God! what a lover to have
caused uneasiness to a man of genius, and what a genius to have got the
better of mine! Are not you ashamed to give any credit to the visions
of a jealous fellow who brought nothing else with him from Italy? Is
it possible that the story of the green stockings, upon which he has
founded his suspicions, should have imposed upon you, accompanied as it
is with such pitiful circumstances? Since he has made you his confidant,
why did not he boast of breaking in pieces my poor harmless guitar?
This exploit, perhaps, might have convinced you more than all the rest:
recollect yourself, and if you are really in love with me, thank
fortune for a groundless jealousy, which diverts to another quarter the
attention he might pay to my attachment for the most amiable and the
most dangerous man of the court."

Hamilton was ready to weep for joy at these endearing marks of kindness,
of which he thought himself so unworthy he was not satisfied with
kissing, in raptures, every part of this billet; he also kissed several
times her gloves and her fan. Play being over, Lady Chesterfield
received them from his hands, and read in his eyes the joy that her
billet had raised in his heart. Nor was he satisfied with expressing
his raptures, only by looks: he hastened home, and wrote to her at least
four times as much. How different was this letter from the other! Though
perhaps not so well written; for one does not show so much wit in suing
for pardon, as in venting reproaches, and it seldom happens that the
soft languishing style of a love-letter is so penetrating as that of
invective.

Be that as it may, his peace was made: their past qua