We are exceedingly pleased with the house; the rooms are quite as large
as we expected. Mrs. Bromley is a fat woman in mourning, and a little
black kitten runs about the staircase. Elizabeth has the apartment
within the drawing-room; she wanted my mother to have it, but as there
was no bed in the inner one, and the stairs are so much easier of
ascent, or my mother so much stronger than in Paragon as not to regard
the double flight, it is settled for us to be above, where we have two
very nice-sized rooms, with dirty quilts and everything comfortable. I
have the outward and larger apartment, as I ought to have; which is
quite as large as our bedroom at home, and my mother's is not materially
less. The beds are both as large as any at Steventon, and I have a very
nice chest of drawers and a closet full of shelves,--so full indeed that
there is nothing else in it, and it should therefore be called a
cupboard rather than a closet, I suppose.
Tell Mary that there were some carpenters at work in the inn at Devizes
this morning, but as I could not be sure of their being Mrs. W. Fowle's
relations, I did not make myself known to them.
I hope it will be a tolerable afternoon. When first we came, all the
umbrellas were up, but now the pavements are getting very white again.
My mother does not seem at all the worse for her journey, nor are any of
us, I hope, though Edward seemed rather fagged last night, and not very
brisk this morning; but I trust the bustle of sending for tea, coffee,
and sugar, etc., and going out to taste a cheese himself, will do him
good.
There was a very long list of arrivals here in the newspaper yesterday,
so that we need not immediately dread absolute solitude; and there is a
public breakfast in Sydney Gardens every morning, so that we shall not
be wholly starved.
Elizabeth has just had a very good account of the three little boys. I
hope you are very busy and very comfortable. I find no difficulty in
closing my eyes. I like our situation very much; it is far more cheerful
than Paragon, and the prospect from the drawing-room window, at which I
now write, is rather picturesque, as it commands a prospective view of
the left side of Brock Street, broken by three Lombardy poplars in the
garden of the last house in Queen's Parade.
I am rather impatient to know the fate of my best gown, but I suppose it
will be some days before Frances can get through the trunk. In the mean
time I am, with many thanks for your trouble in making it, as well as
marking my silk stockings,
Yours very affectionately,
JANE.
A great deal of love from everybody.
Miss AUSTEN, Steventon, Overton, Hants.