mmunicated
to you the fact, I expect you, in the first place, to excuse my
negligence for not writing before; for (as I know you are fond of
the literae humaniores, I will give the sentiment the dignity of a
quotation)--

"Un veritable amant ne connoit point d'amis;"
["A true lover recognizes no friends."--CORNEILLE.]

and though I have been three days married, I am still a lover! In
the second place, I expect you to be very grateful that, all things
considered, I write to you so soon; it would indeed not be an ordinary
inducement that could make me "put pen to paper" (is not that the true
vulgar, commercial, academical, metaphorical, epistolary style?) so
shortly after the fatal ceremony. So, had I nothing to say but in reply
to your comments on state affairs (hang them!) or in applause of your
Italian friend, of whom I say, as Charles II. said of the honest yeoman,
"I can admire virtue, though I can't imitate it," I think it highly
probable that your letter might still remain in a certain box of
tortoise-shell and gold (formerly belonging to the great Richelieu, and
now in my possession), in which I at this instant descry, "with many
a glance of woe and boding dire," sundry epistles, in manifold
handwritings, all classed under the one fearful denomination,--
"unanswered."

No, my good Linden, my heart is inditing of a better matter than this.
Listen to me, and then stay at your host's or order your swiftest steed,
as seems most meet to you.

You said rightly that Miss Trevanion, now her Grace of Haverfield,
was the intimate friend of Lady Flora Ardenne. I have often talked to
her--namely, Eleanor, not Lady Flora--about you, and was renewing the
conversation yesterday, when your letter, accidentally lying before me,
reminded me of you.

Sundry little secrets passed in due conjugal course from her possession
into mine. I find that you have been believed by Lady Flora to have
played the perfidious with La Meronville; that she never knew of your
application to her father! and his reply; that, on the contrary, she
accused you of indifference in going abroad without attempting to obtain
an interview or excuse your supposed infidelity; that her heart is
utterly averse to a union with that odious Lord Boro--bah! I mean Lord
Ulswater; and that--prepare, Linden--she still cherishes your memory,
even through time, change, and fancied desertion, with a tenderness
which--which--deuce take it, I never could write sentime