THE COLONEL AND THE “ORIGINAL LOVE LETTERS.”
Friday, July 25.—Again, to a very late breakfast came Mr. Fairly, which again he made for himself, when the rest were dispersed, of all the odd remnants, eatable and drinkable. He was much better, and less melancholy. He said he should be well enough to join the royal party to-morrow, who were to dine and spend the whole day at Lord Coventry’s at Coombe....
In the afternoon, while Miss Planta and myself were Sitting over our dessert, a gentle rap at the parlour-door preceded Mr. Fairly. How we both started! He was muffled up in a great coat, and said he came quite incog., as he was not well enough to dine anywhere but in his private apartment, nor to attend the royals to the walks, whither they go every evening. He had only strolled out for a walk by himself.
I could not persuade him to sit down; he said he must be gone immediately, lest he should be seen, and the king, not aware of his unfitness, should order his attendance.
Miss Planta, presently, was obliged to go to the princesses, and wait with them till the promenade took place. Quietly, then, he drew a chair to the table, and I saw he had something to say; but, after a little general talk he rose and was going: when, hearing by the dogs the royal family were just in motion, he pulled off his great coat and seated himself again.
And then, he took from his pocket a small volume, which he said he had taken this opportunity to bring me. You will be sure it was the “Original Letters.”
I took them, and thanked him: he charged me with a very grave air to keep them safe, and I put them into my work-box—my dear Fredy’s work-box—which here is my universal repository of small goods and chattels, and useful past all thanks.
By the time they were set off, however, we were entered into conversation, and he said he would venture to stay tea; “though, as I tell you,” he added, “what I do not tell everybody, I must confess I have upon me some certain symptoms that make me a little suspect these Cheltenham waters are going to bring me to a fit of the gout.”
And then he told me that that dreadful disorder had been frequently and dangerously in his family, though he had himself never had it but once, which was after a very bad fall from his horse when hunting with the king.