‘Saturday.
‘My dearest Bobbin,—The moment your letter came I went to Dr. Turton, but he was, as I feared he would be, out. However, I shall call on him this evening and send you his answer by to-morrow night’s mail, if he is not gone to Kent, which I hope he will not be. If so, I cannot see him till Tuesday, as I shall be Sunday and Monday at the Duke of Bedford’s.... I am of opinion you should leave off steel till you have my answer.... It is to give you strength.... You are a very good girl for having taken it, and equally for saying your prayers. Always preserve the habit of doing so. God protect and bless you!
‘Two 64’s and fifteen merchantmen have left the mutineers under a heavy fine, and it is expected the rest will do the same very soon, and then Admiral Parker and Co. will swing. Great expectations of a peace. Tell Mary, St. Paul’s would come to B. as soon as Dr. T., but her thought was a good one.
‘Write me again soon.
‘Yours very affectionately,
‘A. Y.’
To Bobbin from her Father
‘Jermyn Street: Friday.
‘My dear Bobbin,—As I desired you to write to me twice a week I expected a letter yesterday, but hope when I go by and by to the [Board] that I shall find one from you, for I am very anxious to hear how you do, and what Dr. Turton has ordered Smith to do for you. I had a very disagreeable journey to town, and did not sleep a minute, but, thank God, did not take cold; went to bed next night at nine o’clock and recovered the fatigue. The Macklins and Kedington were in a good deal of rain. They have been at two plays; I go to none. K. lives with us, and I am to charge him what he costs. They will go somewhere every night. I order everything just as usual before I go to the Board, and though I am to pay no more than my common expenses when alone, yet, as I necessarily live much better, I think it but fair to be quite economical, and we have a great deal of pleasant laugh at my pinching them, and not permitting their being extravagant. I allow no scrap of a supper which they make a rout about, for they come hungry as hounds from the play, and drink porter when they can get it; the wine I lock up, and have been twice in bed when they return. If you saw them devour at breakfast you would laugh; K., who is to be with the Oakes’ when they come (we have hired Merlin’s for them), threatens that he will give us nothing but potatoes.
‘The news you see. It is said that there will be mutinies in the army as soon as the camps are formed; if so, and no immense army of property to awe them, the very worst of consequences may be expected. Ireland is in a dreadful state of alarm and apprehension—in a word, everything wears a threatening appearance, and nothing but the greatest wisdom and prudence can save us.