and quiet, did I not fly to our company in the drawing-room?
Did you not follow me there--with looks--very pretty looks for a
new-married man, I assure you! Then did you not want to take me aside--
Would not anybody have supposed it was to express your sorrow for your
odd behaviour? Was I not all obedience?--Did you not, with very mannish
airs, slight me for my compliance, and fly out of the room? All the
company could witness the calmness with which I returned to them, that
they might not be grieved for me; nor think our misunderstanding a deep
one. Well, then, when your stomach came down, as I supposed, you sent
for me out: no doubt, thought I, to express his concern now.--I was all
obedience again.

And did I not beseech you, madam--

Beseech me, my lord!--Yes--But with such looks!--I married, sir, let me
tell you, a man with another face--See, see, Emily--He is gone again.--

My lord flew out of the room in a rage.--O these men, my dear! said she
to Emily.

I know, said Emily, what I could have answered, if I dared: but it is ill
meddling, as I have heard say, between man and wife.

Emily says, the quarrel was not made up; but was carried higher still in
the morning.

She had but just finished her tale, when the following billet was brought
me, from Lady G----:

***

TUESDAY MORNING.

Harriet,

If you love me, if you pity me, come hither this instant: I have great
need of your counsel. I am resolved to be unmarried; and therefore
subscribe myself by the beloved name of

CHARLOTTE GRANDISON.

***

I instantly dispatched the following:

I Know no such person as Charlotte Grandison. I love Lady G----, but can
pity only her lord. I will not come near you. I have no counsel to give
you, but that you will not jest away your own happiness.

HARRIET BYRON.

***

In half an hour after, came a servant from Lady G---- with the following
letter:

So, then, I have made a blessed hand of wedlock. My brother gone: my man
excessive unruly: Lord and Lady L---- on his side, without inquiring into
merits, or demerits: lectured by Dr. Bartlett's grave face: Emily
standing aloof; her finger in her eye: and now my Harriet renouncing me:
and all in one week!

What can I do?--War seems to be declared: and will you not turn
mediatrix?--You won't, you say. Let it alone. Nevertheless, I will lay
the whole matter before you.

It was last night, the week from the wedding-day not completed, that Lord