epistle so unexpectedly arrived, I was glad enough to receive it.
It was dated from Ashby Park where she was come to settle down at last, having previously divided her time between the Continent and the Metropolis. She made many apologies for having neglected me so long, assured me she had not forgotten me, and had often intended to write, &c., &c., but always been prevented by something. She acknowledged that she had been leading a very dissipated life, and I should think her very wicked and very thoughtless, but notwithstanding that, she thought a great deal, and among other things, that she should vastly like to see me.
"We have been several days here already," wrote she. "We have not a single friend with us, and are likely to be very dull. You know I never had a fancy for living with my husband like two turtles in a nest, were he the most delightful creature that ever wore a coat, so do take pity upon me and come. I suppose your Midsummer holidays commence in June, the same as other people's, therefore you cannot plead want of time, and you must and shall come—in fact I shall die if you don't.
