"A man-servant has just brought this letter from Lyme Regis, and waits to know if you have any answer to send back," said Eliza.
I was seized with such a violent fit of laughter after the perusal of Mr. Fisher's letter, that poor Eliza really thought I was mad. It was as follows:
"MADAM,—Your misinterpretation of my last note is indeed truly astonishing! I can only assure you, madam, upon my honour, that I have not and I never had the slightest wish or intention to meet you but as a man of business.
"Your very obedient, humble servant,
"C.F. FISHER."
"What can you be laughing at so violently?" Eliza inquired.
"Oh, you must excuse me," answered I, still laughing.
"Any answer for the servant?"
"Oh, yes. Pray ask him to wait a few minutes," said I, addressing myself to my maid; and I then hastily wrote the following answer to Mr. Fisher's tender effusion:
"SIR,—By your letter I have to apprehend that there was no real cause of alarm! I cannot express my dismay, but must console myself with the hope and in the belief that you are all a century behind hand, as to good taste, in this part of the world.
"I beg to remain, sir,
"Your most obliged, and very
devoted, humble servant,
"HARRIETTE."
Having despatched the above, I wrote thus in answer to Meyler's long letter: