When I already began to chide my own laziness, a little gentleman
from Bath brought me a very elegant proof of your kind attention
to me. The little man himself I could not see, as I happened to
be abroad twice when he called upon me; but I had the pleasure of
hearing through him that Mr. Eliot was quite or almost recovered. I
beg you would assure him and Mrs. Eliot how much I rejoice in the
news.
Clarke has now been at his house near Farnham some days. Next week he
is obliged to visit town on some business, and expresses a violent
intention of carrying me down with him. The pleasure of being of
service to an afflicted friend, may make even the country agreeable.
In that case I should leave Deyverdun in possession of Bentinck
Street, though I should grumble at giving up any part of his short
stay.
I have likewise seen another heir, younger and much more
cheerful than Clarke, though extremely decent, I mean Sir Harry
Fetherstone.[236] At present everything carries the appearance of
sobriety and economy. The Baronet, instead of flying to Paris
and Rome, returns to his college at Oxford, and even the house at
Whitehall is to be left. Lady Fetherstone talked to me a great deal
about you. Do you correspond with her?
[Sidenote: BOODLE'S MASQUERADE.]
Our attention is now very much taken up with a very grand Masquerade,
which Boodle's is going to give at the Pantheon. We have a great
deal of money and consequently of taste. Flying bridges, transparent
temples and eighteen thousand lamps in the Dome are the general
subject of conversation. For my own part I subscribe, but am very
indifferent about it. A few friends and a great many books may
entertain me, but I think fifteen hundred people the worst company in
the world.