on a visit to Ardgillan.

GREAT RUSSELL STREET, December 21st.
MY DEAREST H----,

My aunt Dall brought me home word that you wished me to send a
letter which should meet you on your arrival at Ardgillan; and I
would have done so, but that I had previously promised myself that
I would do nothing this day till I had copied out the fourth act of
"The Star of Seville," and you know unless I am steady at my work
this week, I shall break my word a second time, which is
_impossible_, as it ought to have been at first.

[A tragedy in five acts, called "The Star of Seville," at which I was
working, is here referred to. My father had directed my attention to the
subject by putting in my hands a sketch of the life and works of Lope de
Vega, by Lord Holland. The story of La Estrella de Seviglia appeared to
my father eminently dramatic, and he excited me to choose it for the
subject of a drama. I did so, and Messrs. Saunders and Ottley were good
enough to publish it; it had no merit whatever, either dramatic or
poetical (although I think the subject gave ample scope for both), and I
do not remember a line of it.]

However, it is nine o'clock; I have not ceased writing except to
dine, and my act is copied; and now I can give you an hour before
bedtime. How are you? and how is dear A----? Give her several good
kisses for me; she is by this time admirable friends with all your
circle, I doubt not, and slightly, superficially acquainted with
the sea. Tell her she is a careless little puss, though, for she
forgot the plate with my effigy on it for Hercules [Miss S----'s
nephew] which she was to have given my aunt to pack up. I am quite
sorry about it; tell him, however, he shall not lose by it, for I
will send him both a plate with the Belvidera and a mug with my own
natural head on it, the next time you return home.

I stood in the dining-room listening to your carriage wheels until
I believe they were only rolling in my imagination; you cannot
fancy how doleful our breakfast was. Henry was perfectly enraged at
finding that A---- was gone in earnest, and my father began to
wonder how it had ever come to pass that he had consented to let
her go. After breakfast, Dall and I walked to Mr. Cartwright's (the
dentist), who fortunately did not torture me much; for if he had,