as no bad
sign.

The servant went with a message worded with more civility than perhaps he
was used to carry to his master from his lady.

Now, dear Lady Beauchamp, for your own sake; for Sir Harry's sake; make
happy; and be happy. Are there not, dear madam, unhappinesses enow in
life, that we must wilfully add to them?

Sir Harry came in sight. He stalked towards us with a parade like that
of a young officer wanting to look martial at the head of his company.

Could I have seen him before he entered, my work would have been easier.
But his hostile air disposed my lady to renew hostilities.

She turned her face aside, then her person; and the cloudy indignation
with which she entered at first, again overspread her features. Ought
wrath, Dr. Bartlett, to be so ready to attend a female will?--Surely,
thought I, my lady's present airs, after what has passed between her and
me, can be only owing to the fear of making a precedent, and being
thought too easily persuaded.

Sir Harry, said I, addressing myself to him, I have obtained Lady
Beauchamp's pardon for the officious letter--

Pardon, Sir Charles Grandison! You are a good man, and it was kindly
intended--

He was going on: anger from his eyes flashed upon his cheek-bones, and
made them shine. My lady's eyes struck fire at Sir Harry, and shewed
that she was not afraid of him.

Better intended, than done, interrupted I, since my lady tells me, that
it was the occasion of a misunderstanding--But, sir, all will be right:
my lady assures me, that you are not disinclined to comply with the
contents; and she has the goodness--

Pray, Sir Charles, interrupted the lady--

To give me hopes that she--

Pray, Sir Charles--

Will use her interest to confirm you in your favourable sentiments--

Sir Harry cleared up at once--May I hope, madam--And offered to take her
hand.

She withdrew it with an air. O Dr. Bartlett, I must have been thought an
unpolite husband, had she been my wife!

I took her hand. Excuse this freedom, Sir Harry--For Heaven's sake,
madam, (whispering,) do what I know you will do, with a grace--Shall
there be a misunderstanding, and the husband court a refused hand?--I
then forced her half-unwilling hand into his, with an air that I intended
should have both freedom and respect in it.

What a man have we got here, Sir Harry? This cannot be the modest man,
that you have praised to me--I thought a good man must of necessity be
bashful, if not s