CORK STREET, Tuesday morn (August, 1796).
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Here I am once more in this scene of dissipation and
vice, and I begin already to find my morals corrupted. We reached
Staines yesterday, I do not (know) when, without suffering so much from
the heat as I had hoped to do. We set off again this morning at seven
o'clock, and had a very pleasant drive, as the morning was cloudy and
perfectly cool. I came all the way in the chaise from Hertford Bridge.
Edward[1] and Frank[2] are both gone out to seek their fortunes; the
latter is to return soon and help us seek ours. The former we shall
never see again. We are to be at Astley's to-night, which I am glad of.
Edward has heard from Henry this morning. He has not been at the races
at all, unless his driving Miss Pearson over to Rowling one day can be
so called. We shall find him there on Thursday.
I hope you are all alive after our melancholy parting yesterday, and
that you pursued your intended avocation with success. God bless you! I
must leave off, for we are going out.
Yours very affectionately,
J. AUSTEN.
Everybody's love.