THAMES DITTON,
Friday, August 13, 1819.
MY DEAREST EMILY, I was really sorry not to be able to accept Lady Buckinghamshire’s invitation, but you see it could not be, for Lucy sets off Tuesday morning, and as Aunt Soph[98] never parted with her before in her life, I must stay and comfort her....
Think of Sister liking me! I know of few phenomena that ever more surprised me, for I concluded she had set me down as wild and scapegracish. However, it was certainly reciprocal, for she certainly took my fancy very much.
Mary is very much changed since she has gone to live with that Drummond; however, you must get the better of that awkwardness, my poor dear Emmy, which for some time will hang over you. Besides, when Mary’s mind settles again, you will get on better, and no longer miss her. In short, make haste and come, for I cannot write, but I want to talk to you.
Mary gave a sad account of that comical Dog,[99] I trust he is better....
It was a very foolish thing of Mary marrying, but let us hope that, as a cook once said to me when I represented that she had not married prudently, “It was very foolish. The only thing is never to do so again, Ma’am, let us hope.” I say she will look upon it as warning....
I have bought me some ducks, Emily, which I have to dill-dill myself. As yet I hold out, but as I may think dill a bore, I must hope Providence or instinct, that instinct, Emily, which does “Blush in the rose, and in the diamond blaze,” that wonderful instinct I do hope will teach them their solitary way to the back yard.
I am going to get me a Pig too, which I mean to farm upon speculation and make monies.
Have you heard from that comical Dogge? By the bye, I hear that a man was bit by a comical dog at Kingston, and is very bad. Sad times, bread is dear, reformers meeting, dogs mad, and such a harvest the farmers must be ruined.... Ever your affect.
PAM.