as given it all to me. Nothing remains for my
sister, but the free bounty of my F. [father] from what he can save;
which, notwithstanding the greatness of his estate, may be very little.
Possibly, after I have disobliged him so much, he may be glad to have
her so easily provided for, with money already raised; especially if he
has a design to marry himself, as I hear. I do not speak this that you
should not endeavour to come to terms with him, if you please; but I am
fully persuaded it will be to no purpose."

Lady Mary assured Montagu that Lord Dorchester's attitude was this: She
had consented to an engagement with another man, that she had let him
incur an expenditure of some four hundred pounds for a trousseau, and
that, by breaking it off, had made him look foolish. In fact, her
father, she added, had given her clearly to understand that he would
entertain no dealings whatsoever with any suitor other than the one of
his choice, that he would send her to his estate in the north of
England, and that it was his intention to leave her, on his death, only
an annuity of four hundred pounds.

As a good sportsman she at the last moment gave Montagu a chance to
retreat.

"He [my father] will have a thousand plausible reasons for being
irreconcileable, and 'tis very probable the world will be of his side.
Reflect now for the last time in what manner you must take me. I shall
come to you with only a night-gown and petticoat, and that is all you
will get with me. I told a lady of my friends what I intended to do. You
will think her a very good friend when I tell you she has proffered to
lend us her house if we would come there the first night. I did not
accept of this till I had let you know it. If you think it more
convenient to carry me to your lodgings, make no scruple of it. Let it
be where it will: if I am your wife I shall think no place unfit for me
where you are. I beg we may leave London next morning, wherever you
intend to go. I should wish to go out of England if it suits with your
affairs. You are the best judge of your father's temper. If you think it
would be obliging to him, or necessary for you, I will go with you
immediately to ask his pardon and his blessing. If that is not proper at
first, I think the best scheme is going to the Spa. When you come back,
you may endeavour to make your father admit of seeing me, and treat with
mine (thought I persist in thinking it will be to no purpose). But I
cannot th