eginning _rather too soon_; and another thing is,
that I take the liberty not to mind them much, but I expect you
mind me. You _must_ take care of yourself; you _must_ think of
me, and believe me yours sincerely,

C. C.

TO THE SAME.

CARLISLE, October 26.

I have only a minute before the post goes, to assure you, my dear
sir, of the welcome reception of the stranger.[141] The very
great likeness to a friend of mine will endear him to me; he
shall be my constant companion, but I wish he could give me an
answer to a thousand questions I have to make--one in particular,
what reason have you for so many fears you express? Have your
friends changed? Pray let me know the truth--they perhaps don't
like me _being French_. Do write immediately--let it be in better
spirits. Et croyez-moi toujours votre sincere

C. C.

[Footnote 141: A miniature of Scott.]

TO {p.259} THE SAME.

October 31.

... All your apprehensions about your friends make me very
uneasy. At your father's age, prejudices are not easily
overcome--old people have, you know, so much more wisdom and
experience, that we must be guided by them. If he has an
objection on my being _French_, I excuse him with all my heart,
as I don't love them myself. O how all these things plague
me!--when will it end? And to complete the matter, you talk of
going to the West Indies. I am certain your father and uncle say
you are a hot _heady_ young man, quite mad, and I assure you I
join with them; and I must believe, that when you have such an
idea, you have then determined to think no more of me. I begin to
repent of having accepted your picture. I will send it _back
again_, if you ever think again about the West Indies. Your
family then would _love me_ very much--to forsake them for a
_stranger_, a person who does not possess half the charms and
good qualities that you _imagine_. I think I hear your uncle
calling you a hot heady young man. I am certain of it, and I am
_generally right_ in my conjectures. What does your sister say
about it? I suspect that she thinks on the matter as I should do,
with fears and anxieties for the happine