The H.'s have passed a fortnight with me and went away yesterday. I regret them much. We often thought and talked of you, and the more so, as we stumbled on your friend Mrs. Ashby. She is an agreable Woman, though we cannot think her either handsome, or proper for your daughter-in-law. *Do you hear of Port Eliot coming to Bath? and, above all, do you hear of Charles Street[290] coming to Bentinck Street, in its way to Essex, &c. Adieu.
Dear Madam,
I am most truly yours,
E. Gibbon.*
245.
To J. B. Holroyd, Esq.
Saturday Night, 8th April, 1775. Atwood's as usual.
A Letter from Aunt. She supposes me too much taken up with Public business to write. And yet, alas! throughout that public business I have remained silent, and notwithstanding all my efforts chained down to my place by some invisible—unknown invisible power. Now America and almost Parliament are at an end. I have resumed my History with vigour and adjourned Politicks to next Winter. Deyverdun will render account of his own Commissions. Lord Stamford and Booth Gray hunt Brown for your service. He is difficult to catch. I embrace My Lady and Maria. She (I mean My Lady) is good and grateful. Adieu.
Lovegrove still shuffles: I know not what to do.