265.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq.
Bath, October 2nd, 1775.
To continue my journal, I departed from Spinham lands about five o'clock on Sunday morning, and arrived here at eleven. Caplin, whom I had sent on before, met me at the town's end, and agreeably surprised me with the most favourable account. Miss Eliot had too rashly taken the alarm, as Mrs. G.'s sort, though confluent, was a very good one. It has turned, in the best manner possible, the ninth day, and she has at present, but in the slightest degree, the secondary fever. Dr. Delacour assures me that she is perfectly out of all danger: but hesitates about acquainting her of my arrival these three or four days. He knows not the value of time when the fate of an Empire depends upon it. Without disclosing my motives, I urge business: and at all events talk of setting out Thursday. Even if I should not see her, the attention would be all the same. I ought to have acquired some merit at the expence of infinite hurry, twenty pounds (for I rattled with four horses and two servants for the sake of sending Caplin forwards), and above all of a week's loss of time. I am impatient on all accounts to get away; notwithstanding the agreeable society of Mrs. Cochran, Misses Sharp, Major Matthews, and Bresboro the conjurer.——After separating them by a very long dash, I shall mention that I saw Breck Street last night; Sally looks very poorly, and Mr. H. made me melancholy by his desponding way of talking of himself. I have likewise seen Foster, the father of Harry, who inquired much after Jack Holroyd. Methinks he has something of the Brogue upon the tip of his tongue now. How do you relish solitude? Can you endure so many severe strokes which were inflicted in one day? My adorations wait on My Lady, nor do I forget the infant Spinny. Have you had any more Desserts à la Francaise? Depend upon it you will always be properly opposed in such arbitrary measures.
E. G.