“All other carrioles, at sight of this,
Hide their diminish’d heads.”
Your brother’s and Fitzgerald’s will never dare to appear now; they sink into nothing.
Seven in the evening.
Emily has been in tears in her chamber; ’tis a letter of Mrs. Melmoth’s which has had this agreable effect; some wise advice, I suppose. Lord! how I hate people that give advice! don’t you, Lucy?
I don’t like this lover’s coming; he is almost as bad as a husband: I am afraid he will derange our little coterie; and we have been so happy, I can’t bear it.
Good night, my dear.
Yours,
A. Fermor.
LETTER LIV.54.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Jan. 14.