d wherever it is done (but
most of all at Devonshire House) the result will be the same.

Everyone is greatly improved. I wrote an earnest note to Forster a few
days ago on the subject of his being too loud and violent. He has since
subdued himself with the most admirable pains, and improved the part a
thousand per cent. All the points are gradually being worked and
smoothed out with the utmost neatness all through the play. They are all
most heartily anxious and earnest, and, upon the least hitch, will do
the same thing twenty times over. The scenery, furniture, etc., are
rapidly advancing towards completion, and will be beautiful. The dresses
are a perfect blaze of colour, and there is not a pocket-flap or a scrap
of lace that has not been made according to Egg's drawings to the
quarter of an inch. Every wig has been made from an old print or
picture. From the Duke's snuff-box to Will's Coffee-house, you will
find everything in perfect truth and keeping. I have resolved that
whenever we come to a weak place in the acting, it must, somehow or
other, be made a strong one. The places that I used to be most afraid of
are among the best points now.

Will you come to the dress rehearsal on the Tuesday evening before the
Queen's night? There will be no one present but the Duke.

I write in the greatest haste, for the rehearsal time is close at hand,
and I have the master carpenter and gasman to see before we begin.

Miss Coutts is one of the most sensible of women, and if I had not seen
the Duke yesterday, I would have shown her the play directly. But there
can't be any room for anxiety on the head that has troubled you so much.
You may clear it from your mind as completely as Gunpowder Plot.

In great haste, ever cordially.

[Sidenote: The Hon. Miss Eden.[50]]

BROADSTAIRS, _Sunday, 28th September, 1851._

MY DEAR MISS EDEN,

Many thanks for the grapes; which must have come from the identical vine
a man ought to sit under. They were a prodigy of excellence.

I have been concerned to hear of your indisposition, but thought the
best thing I could do, was to make no formal calls when you were really
ill. I have been suffering myself from another kind of malady--a severe,
spasmodic, house-buying-and-repairing attack--which has left me
extremely weak and all but exhausted. The seat of the disorder has been
the pocket.

I had the kindest of notes from