HENRIETTA ST., Wednesday (March 2, 1814).
We had altogether a very good journey, and everything at Cobham was
comfortable. I could not pay Mr. Harrington! That was the only alas! of
the business. I shall therefore return his bill, and my mother's 2_l._,
that you may try your luck. We did not begin reading till Bentley Green.
Henry's approbation is hitherto even equal to my wishes. He says it is
different from the other two, but does not appear to think it at all
inferior. He has only married Mrs. R.[28] I am afraid he has gone through
the most entertaining part. He took to Lady B. and Mrs. N.[29] most
kindly, and gives great praise to the drawing of the characters. He
understands them all, likes Fanny, and, I think, foresees how it will
all be. I finished the "Heroine" last night, and was very much amused by
it. I wonder James did not like it better. It diverted me exceedingly.
We went to bed at ten. I was very tired, but slept to a miracle, and am
lovely to-day, and at present Henry seems to have no complaint. We left
Cobham at half-past eight, stopped to bait and breakfast at Kingston,
and were in this house considerably before two. Nice smiling Mr. Barlowe
met us at the door, and, in reply to inquiries after news, said that
peace was generally expected. I have taken possession of my bedroom,
unpacked my bandbox, sent Miss P.'s two letters to the twopenny post,
been visited by M^{d.} B., and am now writing by myself at the new table
in the front room. It is snowing. We had some snowstorms yesterday, and
a smart frost at night, which gave us a hard road from Cobham to
Kingston; but as it was then getting dirty and heavy, Henry had a pair
of leaders put on to the bottom of Sloane St. His own horses, therefore,
cannot have had hard work. I watched for veils as we drove through the
streets, and had the pleasure of seeing several upon vulgar heads. And
now, how do you all do?--you in particular, after the worry of yesterday
and the day before. I hope Martha had a pleasant visit again, and that
you and my mother could eat your beef-pudding. Depend upon my thinking
of the chimney-sweeper as soon as I wake to-morrow. Places are secured
at Drury Lane for Saturday, but so great is the rage for seeing Kean
that only a third and fourth row could be got; as it is in a front box,
however, I hope we shall do pretty well--Shylock, a good play for
Fanny--she cannot be much affected, I think. Mrs. Perigord has just been
here. She tells me that we owe her master for the silk-dyeing. My poor
old muslin has never been dyed yet. It has been promised to be done
several times. What wicked people dyers are! They begin with dipping
their own souls in scarlet sin. It is evening. We have drank tea, and I
have torn through the third vol. of the "Heroine." I do not think it
falls off. It is a delightful burlesque, particularly on the Radcliffe
style. Henry is going on with "Mansfield Park." He admires H. Crawford:
I mean properly, as a clever, pleasant man. I tell you all the good I
can, as I know how much you will enjoy it. We hear that Mr. Kean is more
admired than ever. There are no good places to be got in Drury Lane for
the next fortnight, but Henry means to secure some for Saturday
fortnight, when you are reckoned upon. Give my love to little Cass. I
hope she found my bed comfortable last night. I have seen nobody in
London yet with such a long chin as Dr. Syntax, nor anybody quite so
large as Gogmagolicus.
Yours aff^{ly}, J. AUSTEN.