letters, such entertaining letters, as you have
lately sent! such a description of your queer
little heart! such a lovely display of what
imagination does! You are worth your weight in
gold, or even in the new silver coinage. I cannot
express to you what I have felt in reading your
history of yourself--how full of pity and concern,
and admiration and amusement, I have been! You are
the paragon of all that is silly and sensible,
common-place and eccentric, sad and lively,
provoking and interesting. Who can keep pace with
the fluctuations of your fancy, the capprizios of
your taste, the contradictions of your feelings?
You are so odd, and all the time so perfectly
natural!--so peculiar in yourself, and yet so like
everybody else!

It is very, very gratifying to me to know you so
intimately. You can hardly think what a pleasure
it is to me to have such thorough pictures of your
heart. Oh, what a loss it will be when you are
married! You are too agreeable in your single
state--too agreeable as a niece. I shall hate you
when your delicious play of mind is all settled
down into conjugal and maternal affections.

Mr. B---- frightens me. He will have you. I see
you at the altar. I have _some_ faith in Mrs. C.
Cage's observation, and still more in Lizzy's;
and, besides, I know it _must_ be so. He must be
wishing to attach you. It would be too stupid and
too shameful in him to be otherwise; and all the
family are seeking your acquaintance.

Do not imagine that I have any real objection; I
have rather taken a fancy to him than not, and I
like the house for you. I only do not like you
should marry anybody. And yet I do wish you to
marry very much, because I know you will never be
happy till you are; but the loss of a Fanny Knight
will be never made up to me. My 'affec. niece F.
C. B----' will be but a poor substitute. I do not
like your being nervous, and so apt to cry--it is
a sign you are not quite well.

* * * * *

I enjoy your visit to Goodnestone, it must be a
great