ast return his many civilities to me could
deserve.

Presently, after this was at an end, my mother died, and I was left at
liberty to mourn her loss awhile. At length my aunt (with whom I was
when you last saw me) commanded me to wait on her at London; and when I
came, she told me how much I was in her care, how well she loved me for
my mother's sake, and something for my own, and drew out a long set
speech which ended in a good motion (as she call'd it); and truly I saw
no harm in't, for by what I had heard of the gentleman I guessed he
expected a better fortune than mine. And it proved so. Yet he protested
he liked me so well, that he was very angry my father would not be
persuaded to give L1000 more with me; and I him so ill, that I vowed if
I had L1000 less I should have thought it too much for him. And so we
parted. Since, he has made a story with a new mistress that is worth
your knowing, but too long for a letter. I'll keep it for you.

After this, some friends that had observed a gravity in my face which
might become an elderly man's wife (as they term'd it) and a
mother-in-law, proposed a widower to me, that had four daughters, all
old enough to be my sisters; but he had a great estate, was as fine a
gentleman as ever England bred, and the very pattern of wisdom. I that
knew how much I wanted it, thought this the safest place for me to
engage in, and was mightily pleased to think I had met with one at last
that had wit enough for himself and me too. But shall I tell you what I
thought when I knew him (you will say nothing on't): 'twas the vainest,
impertinent, self-conceited, learned coxcomb that ever yet I saw; to say
more were to spoil his marriage, which I hear is towards with a daughter
of my Lord Coleraine's; but for his sake I shall take care of a fine
gentleman as long as I live.

Before I have quite ended with him, coming to town about that and some
other occasions of my own, I fell in Sir Thomas's way; and what humour
took I cannot imagine, but he made very formal addresses to me, and
engaged his mother and my brother to appear in't. This bred a story
pleasanter than any I have told you yet, but so long a one that I must
reserve it till we meet, or make it a letter of itself.

The next thing I designed to be rid on was a scurvy spleen that I have
been subject to, and to that purpose was advised to drink the waters.
There I spent the latter end of the summer, and at my coming home found
that a gent