To prevent such an absurdity must be our care, and silence is the only plan to pursue with your Kerry relations. If possible, your mother will write a few lines herself, but lest she should be hindered from doing so, I may as well mention that Lady Araminta Sandes strongly recommends a practice of which she has lately set the example, insisting on the insertion of a clause in every modern marriage settlement, to secure a proper provision for the lady, in case of a separation. I think the council so good, that whenever it comes to my turn, I am resolved to stipulate for at least a thousand a year.

The Duchess of Naresbury has fitted up her pallazo in the best style, and intends to be very splendid; but she will never be one of us, with all her endeavours. She is to be "at home" on the twenty-first of next month, and Crayton asked her permission to take young Fancourt, who is just come back from his travels, along with him to her house. The Duchess forgot who he was, and when Cray. had ticketed him like a geranium in the conservatory, "honorable Augustus, second son to Lord Alison, a very fine young man, and my particular friend," her Grace drew herself up with as much dignity as if she was going to pronounce sentence, and answered, "Lord Crayton, I make it a point not to give any encouragement to younger brothers, 'tis a dangerous folly, of which sooner or later one has to repent. I am sorry for it, but I cannot make exceptions. I cannot receive Mr. Augustus Fancourt." Now, the rule is certainly sound, though this was rather an extreme case; but you know that our charming Byron says, somewhere or other,—I forget the lines,

——And pious mothers

Inquired had they fortunes, and if they had brothers.

Well, Crayton was piqued, and as he would have felt it quite a personal thing had he not succeeded in taking Fancourt to Naresburg-House, he essayed again, and with great presence of mind calmly replied, "I beg a thousand pardons, for my presumption, but I thought your Grace liked talents, and Fancourt is an acquisition any where. He is just come from Greece, and his book comes out in six weeks." "Oh! that is toute autre chose," said the Duchess; "I like clever people excessively. You know I patronize authors, and have a host of protegés continually about me. Lord Crayton, this is quite another view of the matter. Pray bring Mr. Fancourt; I shall be glad to see him, and wish that he was out. He should have brought his materials all ready for the press. He will be late for the season in town. Tell him so from me, and bid him print without delay. I will speak of his book. I will announce it to night at the Duchess of L—'s."

So ended the dialogue, and Cray. came off with flying colours. I was interrupted here by his entrance. Poor fellow! he looked pensive I thought; but I fancy he had a double dose of Burgundy at Lord Morley's yesterday, and who does not wince at sight of the sable squadron in perspective, of those terrible law folks with their long bills, and yellow faces? It was not a week ago since Crayton was laughing heartily at a monstrous sum which rich Burton of Norfolk had to pay to his solicitors for some black letter job. Amongst the items in account was, "To anxiety for my client, March the tenth, two pound fifteen." How very good! When the affair was nearly at an end, old Burton thought it would be a clever thing to spur Rosinante, and accordingly ordered his coach and four to stop, at the "special Attorney's," persuading Mrs. Burton, that a friendly call on market-day, carriage and liveries at the door, would diminish the bill by a cool hundred at least. Mrs. B—— waddled out of the coach in a full suit of green with yellow ribbons, like a walking bank of daffodils, and spoke most condescendingly to Mr. Pim and Mrs. Pim, and the Miss Pims, and the Master Pims, but notwithstanding, and nevertheless, the last entry in the account when it came in was, "To a long and tedious conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Burton, thirteen and fourpence." Crayton is so funny! He tells a story when he is in spirits so well!

Here comes La Madre with her letter, and so Adio. Adelaide would send her love, but we are to suppose that she has none to spare. By and by, I dare say, that she will have plenty on hand; but that is selon les regles. The only danger is, that what goes out love, may come back hatred. Well, Rochefaucauld says, that "hatred is distempered love," so 'tis all the same thing in the end. I am growing prosy, but do you know that the foolish story I told you in my former letter has made such a noise, that I am provoked, and shall begin to turn blue in earnest to vex the blocks. Old Pagoda is at hand, or I assure you it is well if my "Ostracism" were not to send me into banishment. It was rather an unlucky hit, half the young men in town do not understand it, and it is voted a poser. Crayton tells me that money is lost and won upon it daily in St. James's Street. When my uncle is fairly come, and I have touched the rupees, and golden maures, I will positively not keep my wits under hatches any longer. After all, it is egregious folly to give opiates to one's brains because our exquisites are unfurnished in the upper story. I must, however, take the matter quietly, for under a hundred thousand, it will not do to use a word of more than two syllables in length, or any dimensions at all in height or depth; but you shall see what revenge I will have when, like the princess in the fairy tale, my "thread-papers are made of bank-notes, and my favorite spaniel drinks out of a diamond cup." I will then ransack Johnson's folio, and oblige every aspirant to come to my levees with the pocket Lexicon in his bosom. Remember what I have said—mum is the word. Let us not have a commission to try whether we are of sane, or insane mind, nor yet be forced, like Rodolpho, to seek our wits in the moon, for I promise you we should not find a Pegasus to mount so high now-a-days. Encore, adieu.

Yours, ever,
L. H.