"I was thinking of you last night, after I got into bed," resumed Wellington.
"How very polite to the duchess," I observed. "Apropos to marriage, duke, how do you like it?"
Wellington, who seems to make a point of never answering one, continued, "I was thinking—I was thinking that you will get into some scrape, when I go to Spain."
"Nothing so serious as marriage neither, I hope!"
"I must come again to-morrow, to give you a little advice," continued Wellington.
"Oh, let us have it all out now, and have done with it."
"I cannot," said Wellington, putting on his gloves, and taking a hasty leave of me.
"I am glad he is off," thought I, "for this is indeed very uphill work. This is worse than Lord Craven."
As soon as he was gone, I hastened to Curzon Street. The window-shutters of Lord Ponsonby's house were all closed. How disappointed and low-spirited I felt at the idea that his lordship had left town! Suspense was insufferable; so I ventured to send my servant to inquire when the family were expected in London.
"In about a month," was the answer. "I must forget this man," thought I, "it is far too great a bore": and yet I felt that to forget him was impossible.