lways loved writing, and my unhappy situation gives me now enough of
it; and you, I fear, too much. I have had another very warm debate with
Mr. Lovelace. It brought on the subject which you advised me not to
decline, when it was handsomely offered. And I want to have either your
acquittal or blame for having suffered it to go off without effect.

The impatient wretch sent up to me several times, while I was writing my
last to you, to desire my company: yet his business nothing particular;
only to hear him talk. The man seems pleased with his own volubility;
and, whenever he has collected together abundance of smooth things, he
wants me to find an ear for them! Yet he need not; for I don't often
gratify him either with giving him the praise for his verboseness, or
shewing the pleasure in it that he would be fond of.

When I had finished the letter, and given it to Mr. Hickman's friend, I
was going up again, and had got up half a dozen stairs; when he besought
be to stop, and hear what he had to say.

Nothing, as I said, to any new purpose had he to offer; but
complainings; and those in a manner, and with an air, as I thought, that
bordered upon insolence. He could not live, he told me, unless he had
more of my company, and of my indulgence too, that I had yet given him.

Hereupon I stept down, and into the parlour, not a little out of humour
with him; and the more, as he has very quietly taken up his quarters
here, without talking of removing, as he had promised.

We began instantly our angry conference. He provoked me; and I repeated
several of the plainest things I had said in our former conversations;
and particularly told him, that I was every hour more and more
dissatisfied with myself, and with him: that he was not a man, who, in
my opinion, improved upon acquaintance: and that I should not be easy
till he had left me to myself.

He might be surprised at my warmth, perhaps: but really the man looked
so like a simpleton, hesitating, and having nothing to say for himself,
or that should excuse the peremptoriness of his demand upon me, (when he
knew I had been writing a letter which a gentleman waited for,) that I
flung from him, declaring, that I would be mistress of my own time, and
of my own actions, and not to be called to account for either.

He was very uneasy till he could again be admitted into my company, and
when I was obliged to see him, which was sooner than I liked, never did
the man put on a more