'Two days at Beckley Court are over, and that strange sensation I had of
being an intruder escaped from Dubbins's, and expecting every instant the
old schoolmistress to call for me, and expose me, and take me to the dark
room, is quite vanished, and I feel quite at home, quite happy. Evan is
behaving well. Quite the young nobleman. With the women I had no fear of
him; he is really admirable with the men--easy, and talks of sport and
politics, and makes the proper use of Portugal. He has quite won the
heart of his sister. Heaven smiles on us, dearest Harriet!

'We must be favoured, my dear, for Evan is very
troublesome--distressingly inconsiderate! I left him for a day-remaining
to comfort poor Mama--and on the road he picked up an object he had known
at school, and this creature, in shameful garments, is seen in the field
where Rose and Evan are riding--in a dreadful hat--Rose might well laugh
at it!--he is seen running away from an old apple woman, whose fruit he
had consumed without means to liquidate; but, of course, he rushes bolt
up to Evan before all his grand company, and claims acquaintance, and
Evan was base enough to acknowledge him! He disengaged himself so far
well by tossing his purse to the wretch, but if he knows not how to--cut,
I assure him it will be his ruin. Resolutely he must cast the dust off
his shoes, or he will be dragged down to their level. By the way, as to
hands and feet, comparing him with the Jocelyn men, he has every mark of
better blood. Not a question about it. As Papa would say--We have
Nature's proof.

'Looking out on a beautiful lawn, and the moon, and all sorts of trees, I
must now tell you about the ladies here.

'Conning undid me to-night. While Conning remains unattached, Conning is
likely to be serviceable. If Evan, would only give her a crumb, she would
be his most faithful dog. I fear he cannot be induced, and Conning will
be snapped up by somebody else. You know how susceptible she is behind
her primness--she will be of no use on earth, and I shall find excuse to
send her back immediately. After all, her appearance here was all that
was wanted.

'Mrs. Melville and her dreadful juvenile are here, as you may
imagine--the complete Englishwoman. I smile on her, but I could laugh. To
see the crow's-feet under her eyes on her white skin, and those ringlets,
is really too ridiculous. Then there is a Miss Carrington, Lady Jocelyn's
cousin, aged thirty-two--if she has not tampered