eral
attention, which never fails to charm women; he can even be particular
to one, without wounding the vanity of the rest: if he was in company
with twenty, his mistress of the number, his manner would be such, that
every woman there would think herself the second in his esteem; and
that, if his heart had not been unluckily pre-engaged, she herself
should have been the object of his tenderness.

His eyes are of immense use to him; he looks the civilest things
imaginable; his whole countenance speaks whatever he wishes to say; he
has the least occasion for words to explain himself of any man I ever
knew.

Fitzgerald has eyes too, I assure you, and eyes that know how to
speak; he has a look of saucy unconcern and inattention, which is
really irresistible.

We have had a great deal of snow already, but it melts away; 'tis a
lovely day, but an odd enough mixture of summer and winter; in some
places you see half a foot of snow lying, in others the dust is even
troublesome.

Adieu! there are a dozen or two of beaux at the door.

Yours,
A. Fermor.

LETTER 41.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Nov. 10.

The savages assure us, my dear, on the information of the beavers,
that we shall have a very mild winter: it seems, these creatures have
laid in a less winter stock than usual. I take it very ill, Lucy, that
the beavers have better intelligence than we have.

We are got into a pretty composed easy way; Sir George writes very
agreable, sensible, sentimental, gossiping letters, once a fortnight,
which Emily answers in due course, with all the regularity of a
counting-house correspondence; he talks of coming down after Christmas:
we expect him without impatience; and in the mean time amuse ourselves
as well as we can, and soften the pain of absence by the attention of
a man that I fancy we like quite as well.

With submission to the beavers, the weather is very cold, and we
have had a great deal of snow already; but they tell me 'tis nothing to
what we shall have: they are taking precautions which make me shudder
beforehand, pasting up the windows, and not leaving an avenue where
cold can enter.

I like the winter carriages immensely; the open carriole is a kind
of one-horse chaise, the covered one a chariot, set on a sledge to run
on the ice; we have not yet had snow enough to use them, but I like
their appearance prodigiously; the covered carrioles seem the prettiest
things in nature to