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tionate kindness to us. Ah, Gusty, why have

you left us?

Your letters do not satisfy us; they do not contain those outburstings of happiness that we looked for, to console us for your absence. How is this, my child? Your mother says, that it proceeds from a delicacy on your part, of not appearing too happy away from us. And now I remember it, my Gusty, I have often and often wondered why you seemed so very cold to Lord Annandale, just at the last. Was it that you found, when the time of parting drew near, that you loved us better than you had fancied, and could not reconcile your mind to leaving your poor old doting father and mother? Yes! it must have been this thought that caused your sadness. Bless you for it, a thousand times, my heart's darling ! I at once suspected this; and, to save you from the pain of separation, I offered Lord Annandale to go up to London at once; but he, to say the truth, opposed it so much that our pride took the alarm, though often, since, we have wondered why he should have rejected our proposal. Your mother thinks that it was because he wished to have you all to himself, in order to accustom you to live without us. Perhaps it was so. I know not how you, my child, have learned the lesson, but I feel that we bave not acquired it.

I promised, when I began this letter, to leave half the paper for your mother; yet I find I have nearly filled it all, without having said half what my heart dictates to you.

Bless you, my precious child, my own Gusty! prays your fond father,




Your father has told you, my most beloved Augusta, how sadly we miss you. I try to comfort him, by the prospect of our soon meeting; but my efforts have not been successful. I forgot my own regrets, in endeavouring to sooth his ; yet I, too, my precious child, miss your sweet and joyous face every hour, as we miss the sun when his bright beams no longer cheer us. I find myself continually in your room, once so gay, and now so desolate. Your bed, with the pillow on which, from infancy, your dear head has rested— how sad does it make me to look on it now! Your writingtable, your tambour - frame, your harp and piano, all, all remind me that you, the dear presiding spirit which animated them, are far




Why is not Lord Annandale a lover of the country, like Lords Delaward and Nottingham? We should then see more of you, and might get reconciled to this separation ; but, as it is, it has fallen heavily upon us.

I do not neglect your poor pensioners, and I feel an increase of good-will towards all our household from observing how much they sympathise with us in our regret for you. Heaven guard and bless my precious child, prays her fondly attached mother,




MA CHÈRE DELPHINE, -I was fearful that I should never come in contact with any of the women here most remarkable for their high moral character, and for a strict decorum of

manner peculiar to the noblesse of this country before a clumsy imitation and gross exaggeration of continental manners had been adopted.

Some, however, of these ladies have been to

call on Lady Annandale; and have impressed me with a respect for them, if not with any warmer sentiment. One, the Duchess of Fitzwalter, was announced the other day, when notre amie la Comtesse Hohenlinden was reclining in the bergère, in the boudoir of Augusta, exhibiting her pretty feet and wellturned ankles to two of her attending beaux, by placing them in a more elevated posture than modesty sanctions.

This freedom of manner, this abandon and laissez aller, so peculiar to notre frau graf inn, always brings a blush to the cheek of Augusta ; who sits constrained and silent, to the no small amusement of the comtesse, who delights in

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