back. If you stay long in Prussia, Heaven
knows what may happen."

In August of the same year she writes again. "Sheridan call'd in the
morning and found out that I was alone, and told me he would dine with
me. I thought, of course, he was in joke, but, _point du tout_, he
arriv'd at dinner, dined, and stayed the whole evening. He was very
pleasant, but--it was not you, and the seeing anybody only increas'd
my regrets, which I suppose were pretty visible, for every five
minutes he kept saying: 'How I am wasting all my efforts to entertain
you, while you are grieving that you cannot change me into _Lord
Leveson_. You would not be so grim if he was beaming on you.' At
length, as I thought he was preparing to pass the night as well as the
evening with me, and as he began to make some fine speeches I did not
quite approve of, I order'd my Chair, to get rid of him. This did
not succeed, for as I had no place to go to, he follow'd me about to
Anne's and Lady D----'s, where I knew I should not be let in, and home
again. But, luckily, I got in time enough to order every one to be
denied, and ran upstairs, while I heard him expostulating with the
porter...." It does not appear, from this narrative, that the hunted
fair was seriously annoyed at being hunted, and the implication of
Lord Granville in the unpleasant business is patent. Next year she has
asked her persecutor to help Antinous at his election, for his reply,
beginning "Dear Traitress," is given here.

After that, peace or silence, until 1802, when Sheridan changed his
tactics.

"The opera was beautiful.... The Prince paid us two visits,
but our chief company were Hare, Grey, and Sheridan, the
latter persecuting me in every pause of the music and
telling me he knew such things of you, could give me such
incontrovertible proofs of your falsehood, and not only
falsehood but treachery to me, that if I had one grain of
pride or spirit left I should fly you. And guess what I
answered, you who call me jealous. I told him I had such
entire reliance on your faith, such confidence in your truth,
that I should doubt my own eyes if they witness'd against your
word. He pitied me, and said: 'How are the mighty fallen,' and
then went on telling me things without end to drive me mad."
That was in March. In August she writes, actually under siege:
"Here I am quite alone in C. Square ... no carriage to watch
for, no rap at