_Nov. 6, '92._
I left Roehampton yesterday, and took leave of my friend Mrs. Charles
Hoare, with a high opinion of her abilities, and a still higher opinion
of her goodness. She was exceedingly kind to me, and I spent most of my
time with her as I liked: I say most, because a good deal of it was
spent in company where I heard of nothing but chariots and horses, and
curricles and tandems. Oh, to what contempt I exposed myself in a
luckless hour by asking what a tandem was! I am going in a few days to
meet Mrs. Powys at Bath. Since I have been away from home I have missed
the society and fondness of my father, mother, and sisters more than I
can express, and more than beforehand I should have thought possible: I
long to see them all again. Even when I am most amused I feel a void,
and now I understand what an aching void is, perfectly well. You know
they are going back to Prince's Buildings to the nice house we had last
winter; and Emmeline writes me word that the great red puddle which we
used to call the Red Sea, and which we were forced to wade through
before we could get to the Downs, will not this winter be so terrible,
for my father has made a footpath for his "host."