t St. Helen's, I think the church is called.

As if wedlock were an honour, the Danby girl, in respect to Sir Charles,
was to be first yoked. He gave her away to the son Galliard. The father
Galliard gave his daughter to Edward Danby: but first Mr. Hervey gave his
niece to the elder.

One of the brides, I forget which, fainted away; another half-fainted--
Saved by timely salts: the third, poor soul, wept heartily--as I suppose
I shall do on Tuesday.

Never surely was there such a matrimony promoter, as my brother. God
give me soon my revenge upon him in the same way!

The procession afterwards was triumphant--Six coaches, four silly souls
in each; and to Mr. Poussin's, at Enfield, they all drove. There they
found another large company.

My brother was all cheerfulness; and both men and women seemed to contend
for his notice: but they were much disappointed at finding he meant to
leave them early in the evening.

One married lady, the wife of Sir ---- somebody, (I am very bad at
remembering the names of city knights,) was resolved, she said, since
they could not have Sir Charles to open the ball, to have one dance
before dinner with the handsomest man in England. The music was
accordingly called in; and he made no scruple to oblige the company on a
day so happy.

Do you know, Harriet, that Sir Charles is supposed to be one of the
finest dancers in England? Remember, my dear, that on Tuesday--[Lord
help me! I shall be then stupid, and remember nothing]--you take him out
yourself: and then you will judge for yourself of his excellence in this
science--May we not call dancing a science? If we judge by the few who
perform gracefully in it, I am sure we may; and a difficult one too.

O!--And remember, Harriet, that you get somebody to call upon him to
sing--You shall play--I believe I shall forget, in that only agreeable
moment of the day, (for you have a sweet finger, my love,) that I am the
principal fool in the play of the evening.

O, Harriet,--how can I, in the circumstances I am in, write any more
about these soft souls, and silly? Come to me by day-dawn, and leave me
not till--I don't know when. Come, and take my part, my dear: I shall
hate this man: he does nothing but hop, skip, and dance about me, grin
and make mouths; and every body upholds him in it.

Must this (I hope not!) be the last time that I write myself to you

CHARLOTTE GRANDISON?

LETTER XVII

MISS BYRON, TO MISS SELBY
ST. JAMES'S-SQ