“My sister is well again, and once more I possess my soul with tranquillity. I believe you will guess I suffered great and terrible anxiety when I was forced to leave her to a dreadful distemper, whose terrors received great additions from my particular fears of it, and tenderness to her. The want of sleep, at first, a little damaged my constitution, I had a slight fever with disorder for a week, which I believe was chiefly occasioned by it. I did not mention it to my brother, for fear it should make him uneasy, but I am now perfectly well, and from the reflection of my sister’s good fortune, happy too, though great is the change you will see, from London and lolling on the velvet sofa of a duchess, to humbly sitting on a 3-legged cricket[158] in the country.”

[158] A three-legged stool.

CURE FOR LOVE

At the end of the letter of an admirer of her’s she says—

“Our friend B——[159] increases in chin and misery, he came to breakfast with my Papa one morning, and complained of the Hyp, for which my good parent advised him to take assafœtida, the prescription was admirable, he might as well have sent him to the Tinker’s to have mended the hole in his heart. Oh! cruel fate that made no cure for love, thought my friend, and sighed bitterly: really I could not help laughing at the precious balm my Pappa was for applying to the wound. It would have ruined a happy lover with me.”

[159] Mr. Brockman, of Beachborough.

Letter from the Duke of Portland.

“Whitehall, April 25, 1741.

“Madam,

Since ye frivolous letters j trouble you with are ranked as favours you receive, j’am sure no excuse can be made for any neglect towards you, and it would, nay it does, make me wish ye post went out every day, yt j might have it in my power to confer my favours, such as they are, upon you: j’am not sure if vanity, as well as ye desire j have of doing all yt lays in my power to oblige you, does not have a share in this wish about ye post, for really j have reason to be proud yt a Lady of so many perfections as Miss Robinson, (j can’t name them singly for j should never have done), can sett any value upon my poor insignificant letters, tho’ your approving them might puff up any body’s vanity, yett j have humility enough to think that j owe all the favours you are pleased to show me, to ye subject j write about; it is a subject yt you will be no more tired to hear off than j to write off: then j am sure your next question will be, Pray my lord to ye subject: well then in complyance to your commands j am to inform you yt ye Duchess continues as well as can be, and ye Babe too. My wife desires me to tell you yt your letter revived her exceedingly, yt she had waited with great impatience for it, and yt she hopes to hear often from you. She, as well as myself, rejoice at your sister’s recovery, and desire our compliments to her. You may say everything yt is kind to yourself from my wife, and tho’ j am sure you have a very good genius in turning things as you like, you will hardly outdo her sentiments concerning you. Your being got rid of your feaver gave us great joy, for we began to be uneasy about Fidgett; nobody can see her without admiration, and when one hears her open her lips one is struck dumb; if one was to go on with everything when one receives a letter from you, one’s fingers would become numbed, and unable to answer, was it not for the desire of receiving more letters, makes one’s fingers to write to engage you to answer. In reading your letter j can’t help acquainting you yt there would be great strifes to be a Chaunticleer to be ye real possessor of such a Dame Partlett as you, whether of ye favourite little Bantam kind, or of the ruffled friesland kind; j should think the first more adapted to you for its gentility and rarity and cleanliness, all qualifications, which, tho’ j am no chanticleer j can sing off in your behalf. Nay j will do it. It is time for me to finish my letter to you tho’ j do not conclude my letter with such a pompous ‘humble servant’ as you do, j hope you are thoroughly persuaded that j am not less,