LORD G. God for ever reward you, madam!—I will tell you how it began—
LADY G. 'Began!' She knows that already, I tell you, my lord. But what has passed within these four hours, she knows not: you may entertain her with that, if you please.—It was just about the time this day is a week, that we were altogether, mighty comfortably, at St. George's, Hanover-square—
LORD G. Every tittle of what you promised there, madam—
LADY G. And I, my lord, could be your echo in this, were I not resolved to keep my temper, as you cannot but say I have done, all along.
LORD G. You could not, madam, if you did not despise me.
LADY G. You are wrong, my lord, to think so: but you don't believe yourself: if you did, the pride of your heart ought not to permit you to own it.
LORD G. Miss Byron, give me leave—
LADY G. Lord bless me! that people are so fond of exposing themselves! Had you taken my advice, when you pursued me out of my dressing-room into company—My lord, said I, as mildly as I now speak, Don't expose yourself. But he was not at all the wiser for my advice.
LORD G. Miss Byron, you see—But I had not come down but to make my compliments to you. He bowed, and was about to withdraw.
I took him by the sleeve—My lord, you must not go. Lady G——, if your own heart justifies you for your part in this misunderstanding, say so; I challenge you to say so.—She was silent.