tupid.

The season was too far advanced when I was at Lord Moira's to allow of
my taking long walks. Lady Charlotte proposed to go driving with me,
but she went in a sort of cariole as hard as a cart, which I could
only endure for a short while. The English are used to braving their
weather. I often met them in the pouring rain, riding without
umbrellas in open carriages. They are satisfied with wrapping their
cloaks about them, but this has its drawbacks for strangers
unaccustomed to such a watery state of things. Homeward bound in these
English drives, I would sometimes stop on a hill four or five miles
from London, hoping for a view of that stupendous city, but the fog
lying upon it was always so thick that I never was able to distinguish
anything but the tips of its spires.

CHAPTER XVIII

BONAPARTES AND BOURBONS

BACK IN PARIS -- THE DEVOTION OF MME. GRASSINI -- CAPRICIOUS,
EXACTING MME. MURAT -- ASPECTS OF CHRISTIAN WARFARE -- "KILL ALL
THOSE PEOPLE!" LOUIS XVIII. ENTERS THE CAPITAL -- THE BARRENNESS
OF NAPOLEON'S VICTORIES -- HIS SUCCESSOR'S ATTAINMENTS -- BOURBON
CHARACTERISTICS -- THE AUTHORESS LOSES HER HUSBAND, DAUGHTER AND
BROTHER -- CONCLUSION.

Although I had come to England with the intention of remaining but
five or six months, I had now stayed nearly three years, held, not
solely by my interests as a painter, but also by the kind treatment
bestowed upon me. I have often heard it said that the English are
lacking in hospitality, but I am far from sharing that opinion, and
harbour grateful memories of the cordiality I met with in London.
Though receiving more social invitations than I could possibly accept,
I nevertheless succeeded--and this was said to be very difficult--in
forming an intimate circle to my taste. I achieved it through allying
myself with Lady Bentinck and her sister, the Villiers young ladies,
Mme. Anderson, and Lord Trimlestown, who, an accomplished amateur in
the arts, cultivates painting and literature with taste and talent,
and who, now in Paris, keeps his friendship for me. I should,
therefore, not have decided to return to France so soon had I not
learned that my daughter had arrived at Paris. I keenly longed to see
her again, the more as I was secretly informed that her father
allowed her to form connections that to me seemed improper for a young
woman, and hence I hastened my departure. It surely needed a deep
motive to resist the appe