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Updated: June 26, 2025
The masquerade dresses are come. But how's this?" added she, looking full in Belinda's face "tears in the eyes! blushes in the cheeks! tremors in the joints! and letters shuffling away! But, you novice of novices, how awkwardly shuffled! A niece of Mrs. Stanhope's, and so unpractised a shuffler! And is it credible she should tremble in this ridiculous way about a love-letter or two?"
Beautiful Barbara Palmer. The King's Projected marriage. Catherine of Braganza. His Majesty's speech. A Royal love-letter. The new Queen sets sail. A general idea obtains that the libertine example set forth by Charles II. and his courtiers is wholly to blame for the spirit of depravity which marked his reign.
Day after day passed on, and Kate Bonnet arose each morning feeling less happy than on the day before. But at last a letter came, brought by a French vessel which had touched at Barbadoes. This letter was to Kate from Martin Newcombe. It was a love-letter, a very earnest, ardent love-letter, but it did not make the young girl happy, for it told her very little about her father.
"If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for admiring me, tho' perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady Scudamore."
M. de Rambuteau may that very morning have used the other half of the sheet to write a love-letter to one of his "little bourgeoises," as he called them.
'If she should be beautiful! I thought for I had often dreamed of a beautiful ghost that made love to me. The figure did not move. She was looking at a faded brown paper. 'Some old love-letter, I thought, and stepped nearer. So cool was I now, that I actually peeped over her shoulder. With mingled surprise and dismay I found that the dim page over which she bent was that of an old account-book.
". . . faced her as surely as it faces you." "Permit me to see the paper, Monsieur." Some men would have surrendered to the seductiveness of her voice; not so the vicomte. "Scarcely, Madame," smiling. "How am I to know that it is genuine? Allow me to glance at it?" "And witness you tear it up, or . . . burn it like a love-letter?" shrewdly. Madame stiffened in her chair.
I wrote it on some blank pages from my pocket which I used for College notes. It was surely the queerest love-letter ever indited, for the most part of it was theology, and the rest was instructions for the disposing of his scanty plenishing. I have forgotten now what I wrote, but I remember that the woman's name was Alison Steel.
She took the letter from its folds and then hesitated. "Mebby," she began breathlessly, "I perhaps I'd better read it to you, Elsie because there's parts, you know, that might sound foolish." She looked at the girl apologetically. "Of course, Arabella, I understand." Elsie pushed the letter back into her hand. "After all, no third person ought to see a love-letter, you know."
With a desperate self-control she had wrenched herself out of Phillis's power, she had saved herself and her husband from the suspicion that it was possible Dr. Grey's wife could receive, or give occasion to receive, a secret letter, a love-letter, from any man; but when the effort was over she broke down.
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