The grateful, dutiful, and affectionate
HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER XXXVI

MISS BYRON, TO LADY G----
SELBY-HOUSE, MONDAY, APRIL 24.

Though the kind friends with whom I parted at Dunstable were pleased, one
and all, to allow that the correspondence which is to pass between my
dear Lady G---- and their Harriet, should answer the just expectations of
each upon her, in the writing way; and though (at your motion, remember,
not at mine) they promised to be contented with hearing read to them such
parts of my letters as you should think proper to communicate; yet cannot
I dispense with my duty to Lady L----, my Emily, my cousin Reeves, and
Dr. Bartlett. Accordingly, I write to them by this post; and I charge
you, my dear, with my sincere and thankful compliments to your lord, and
to Mr. Beauchamp, for their favours.

What an agreeable night, in the main, was Friday night! Had we not been
to separate next morning, it would have been an agreeable one indeed!

Is not my aunt Selby an excellent woman? But you all admired her. She
admires you all. I will tell you, another time, what she said of you, my
dear, in particular.

My cousin Lucy, too--is she not an amiable creature? Indeed you all were
delighted with her. But I take pleasure in recollecting your
approbations of one I so dearly love. She is as prudent as Lady L----
and now our Nancy is so well recovered, as cheerful as Lady G----. You
said you would provide a good husband for her: don't forget. The man,
whoever he be, cannot be too good for my Lucy. Nancy is such another
good girl: but so I told you.

Well, and pray, did you ever meet with so pleasant a man as my uncle
Selby? What should we have done, when we talked of your brother, when we
talked of our parting, had it not been for him? You looked upon me every
now and then, when he returned your smartness upon him, as if you thought
I had let him know some of your perversenesses to Lord G----. And do you
think I did not? Indeed I did. Can you imagine that your frank-hearted
Harriet, who hides not from her friends her own faults, should conceal
yours?--But what a particular character is yours! Every body blames you,
that knows of your over-livelinesses; yet every body loves you--I think,
for your very faults. Had it not been so, do you imagine I could ever
have loved you, after you had led Lady L---- to join with you, on a
certain teasing occasion?--My uncle dotes upon you!

But don't tell Emily that my cou