he demon
horse, and as I drew up and turned about I heard, "Well, that woman
does ride well," which was all, whoever said it, knew of the
matter; whereas, in my mad career, I had passed Fozzard, who shook
his head lamentably at John, exclaiming, "Oh, Miss Fanny! Miss
Fanny!" After this last satisfactory experiment I made no more, and
we cut short our ride on account of my unmanageable steed....

We had a dinner party at home, and in the evening additional
guests, among them Thackeray, who is very clever and delightful. We
had music and singing and pleasant, bright talk, and they departed
and left us in great good humor.

_Wednesday, 25th._--Read the "Prometheus Unbound." How gorgeous it
is! I do not think Shelley is read or appreciated now as
enthusiastically as he was, even in my recollection, some few years
ago. I went over my part, and at half-past five to the theater. The
play was "Katharine of Cleves," the house very good; and, to please
Henry Greville, I resumed the gold wreath I had discarded and
restored the lines I had omitted. After the play came home and
supped, and at eleven went to Lady F----'s.... A very fine party;
"everybody"--that is in town--was there, and Mrs. Norton looking
more magnificent than "everybody." Old Lady S---- like nothing in
the world but the mummy carried round at the Egyptian feasts, with
her parchment neck and shoulders bare, and her throat all drawn
into strings and cords, hung with a dozen rows of perfect precious
stones glittering in the glare of the lights with the constant
shaking of her palsied head. [This lady continued to frequent the
gayest assemblies in London when she had become so old and infirm
that, though still persisting daily in her favorite exercise on
horseback, she used to be tied into her saddle in such a manner as
to prevent her falling out of it. She had been one of the finest
riders in England, but used often, at the time when I knew her, to
go to sleep while walking the horse round the park, her groom who
rode near her being obliged to call to her "My lady! My lady!" to
make the poor old woman open her eyes and see where she was going.
At upward of eighty she died an unnatural death. Writing by
candle-light on a winter's evening, it is supposed that her cap
must have taken fire, fo