Selvin, without making any reply, retired to write to Arabella; which Tinsel suspecting, resolved to be before-hand with him: and without leaving the coffee-house, called for paper, and wrote a billet to her, which he dispatched away immediately.
The messenger had just got admittance to Lucy, when another arrived from Selvin.
They both presented their letters; but Lucy refused them, saying, her lady would turn her away, if she received such sort of letters.
Such sort of letters! returned Tinsel's man. Why, do you know what they contain, then?
To be sure I do, replied Lucy; they are love-letters; and my lady has charged me never to receive any more.
Well, replied Selvin's servant, you may take my letter; for my master desired me to tell you it was about business of consequence, which your lady must be acquainted with.
Since you assure me it is not a love-letter, I'll take it, said Lucy.
And pray take mine too, said Tinsel's Mercury; for I assure you, it is not a love-letter neither; it's only a billet-doux.
Are you sure of that? replied Lucy: because I may venture to take it, I fancy, if it is what you say.
I'll swear it, said the man, delivering it to her. Well, said she, receiving it, I'll take them both up. But what did you call this? pursued she. I must not forget it, or else my lady will think it a love-letter.