I told you I would not write to you to-day, dear, yet down I sat, determined on sending you a long letter when I had finished Lady L.’s; but, lo! a parcel of people (the Cahers) and their carriage seen at the door, others were obliged to be admitted, and one moment till this (five o’clock) I could not get, to tell you I love you the more I think of you, so take it for granted, my life is yours, and should be devoted to your happiness. God bless you! “Je t’embrasse tendrement à la hâte.” Tell Lady L. that whatever Miss Butler may have written her—Lady Manners seems, at least, in too good spirits for anything very serious to be impending.
