ent out, and we did not know
one another; yet hearing me named, she asked, "What, is that Dr. Swift?"
said she and I were very well acquainted, and fell a railing at me
without mercy, as a lady told me that was there; yet I never was but
once in the company of that drab of a Countess. Sir Andrew Fountaine and
I dined with my neighbour Van. I design in two days, if possible, to
go lodge at Chelsea for the air, and put myself under a necessity of
walking to and from London every day. I writ this post to the Bishop of
Clogher a long politic letter, to entertain him. I am to buy statues and
harnese(10) for them, with a vengeance. I have packed and sealed up MD's
twelve letters against I go to Chelsea. I have put the last commissions
of MD in my account-book; but if there be any former ones, I have forgot
them. I have Dingley's pocket-book down, and Stella's green silk apron,
and the pound of tea; pray send me word if you have any other, and down
they shall go. I will not answer your letter yet, saucy boxes. You are
with the Dean just now, Madam Stella, losing your money. Why do not
you name what number you have received? You say you have received my
letters, but do not tell the number.

25. I was this day dining in the City with very insignificant, low, and
scurvy company. I had a letter from the Archbishop of Dublin, with a
long denial of the report raised on him,(11) which yet has been since
assured to me from those who say they have it from the first hand; but
I cannot believe them. I will show it to the Secretary to-morrow. I will
not answer yours till I get to Chelsea.

26. Chelsea. I have sent two boxes of lumber to my friend Darteneuf's
house, and my chest of Florence and other things to Mrs. Vanhomrigh,
where I dined to-day. I was this morning with the Secretary, and showed
him the Archbishop's letter, and convinced him of his Grace's innocence,
and I will do the same to Mr. Harley. I got here in the stage-coach with
Patrick and my portmanteau for sixpence, and pay six shillings a week
for one silly room with confounded coarse sheets.(12) We have had such a
horrible deal of rain, that there is no walking to London, and I must go
as I came until it mends; and besides the whelp has taken my lodging as
far from London as this town could afford, at least half a mile farther
than he need; but I must be content. The best is, I lodge just over
against Dr. Atterbury's house, and yet perhaps I shall not like the
place the b