up was Lady Mary's. Out sprang Lord Darcey,
Miss Powis in his hand; both in a moment lock'd in parental
embraces.--Good heaven, what extasy!--I thought Mr. Watson and Mr.
Morgan would have fought a duel which should first have folded Miss
Powis in his arms, whilst Sir James and Lady Powis quitted her to
welcome Lady Mary.--We were all receiv'd tenderly affectionate:--a
reception none can have an idea of, but those who have been at Barford
Abbey.

In my way to the house, I suppose I had a hundred kisses:--_God knows
from whom_.--What can I say of Lord Hampstead's family?--what of Mr.
Molesworth?--The general notice taken of him is sufficient.--Absolutely
that charming man will be spoil'd.--Pity to set him up for an idol!--I
hope he will not _always_ expect to be worshipp'd--Mr. Risby
_too_--Well, I'll mention you all, one after another, as fast as
possible.--Let me see, where did I leave off?--Oh! we were just out of
our carriages.--And now for the pathetics:--an attempt;--a humble
attempt only.

Lady Powis, Lady Mary, and their darling, had given us the slip.--What
could be done?--I mean with Mr. Morgan:--he was quite outrageous.--What
could be done? I repeat.--Why Sir James, to pacify him, said, we should
all go and surprize them in his Lady's dressing-room.--We did go;--we
did surprize them;--great God! in what an attitude!--The exalted Lady
Powis at the feet of Lady Mary;--Miss Powis kneeling by her;--she
endeavouring to raise them.--I said it would be an attempt at the
pathetics;--it must be an attempt:--I can proceed no farther.

To be sure, Mr. Morgan is a queer-looking man, but a great favourite at
the Abbey.--He took Miss Powis on his knee;--call'd her a hundred times
his dear, dear daughter;--and I could not forbear laughing, when he told
her he had not wore a tye-wig before these twenty years. This drew me to
observe his dress, which, unless you knew the man, you can have no idea
how well it suited him:--a dark snuff-colour'd coat with gold buttons,
which I suppose by the fashion of it, was made when he accustomed
himself to _tye-wigs_;--the lace a rich orrice; but then it was so
immoderately short, both in the sleeves and skirts, that whilst full
dress'd he appeared to want cloathing.

The _next_ morning,--ay, the _next_ morning, then it was I lost my
freedom.--Disrob'd of his gingerbread coat, I absolutely sell a
sacrifice to a plain suit of broad cloth,--or rather, to a noble, plain
heart.--Now pray, d