_Friday, Oct. 8._--I set off with my dear father for Chesington, where
we passed five days very comfortably; my father was all good humour, all
himself,--such as you and I mean by that word. The next day we had the
blessing of your Dover letter[180] and on Thursday, Oct.:14, I arrived
at dear Norbury Park at about seven o'clock, after a pleasant ride in
the dark. Locke most kindly and cordially welcomed me; he came out upon
the steps to receive me, and his beloved Fredy[181] waited for me in the
vestibule. Oh, with what tenderness did she take me to her bosom! I felt
melted with her kindness, but I could not express a joy like hers, for
my heart was very full of my dearest Susan, whose image seemed before
me upon the spot where we had so lately been together. They told me that
Madame de la Fite, her daughter, and Mr. Hinde, were in the house; but
as I am now, I hope, come for a long time, I did not vex at hearing
this. Their first inquiries were if I had not heard from Boulogne.[182]
_Saturday._--I fully expected a letter, but none came; but Sunday I
depended upon one. The post, however, did not arrive before we went to
church. Madame de la Fite, seeing my sorrowful looks, good naturedly
asked Mrs. Locke what could be set about to divert a little la pauvre
Mademoiselle Beurney? and proposed reading a drama of Madame de
Genlis. I approved it much, preferring it greatly to conversation and
accordingly, she and her daughter, each taking characters to themselves,
read “La Rosire de Salency.” It is a very interesting and touchingly
simple little drama. I was so much pleased that they afterwards
regularly read one every evening while they stayed.
Next morning I went up stairs as usual, to treat myself with a solo of
impatience for the post, and at about twelve o'clock I heard Mrs. Locke
stepping along the passage. I was sure of good news, for I knew, if
there was bad, poor Mr. Locke would have brought it. She came in, with
three letters in her hand, and three thousand dimples in her cheeks and
chin! Oh, my dear Susy, what a sight to me was your hand! I hardly cared
for the letter; I hardly desired to open it; the direction alone almost
satisfied me sufficiently. How did Mrs. Locke embrace me! I half
kissed her to death. O Then came dear Mr. Locke, his eyes brighter than
ever--“Well, how does she do?”
This question forced me to open my letter; all was just as I could
wish, except that I regretted the having written the day before such a
lamentation. I was so congratulated! I shook hands with Mr. Locke; the
two dear little girls came jumping to wish me joy and Mrs. Locke ordered
a fiddler, that they might have a dance in the evening, which had been
promised them from the time of Mademoiselle de la Fite's arrival,
but postponed from day to day, by general desire, on account of my
uneasiness.
_Monday, Oct. 25_--Mr. Hinde and Madame and Mademoiselle de la Fite all
left us. They were all so good humoured and so happy, there was no being
glad; though how to be sorry at remaining alone with this family, I
really know not. Both the De la Fites went away in tears. I love them
for it.
_Wednesday, Nov. 3_--This day has brought ine another sweet letter from
my Susy. What a set of broken-fortuned, broken-charactered people of
fashion are about you at Boulogne.[183] The accounts are at once curious
and melancholy to me.
Nothing can be more truly pleasant than our present lives. I bury all
disquietudes in immediate enjoyment; an enjoyment more fitted to my
secret mind than any I had ever hoped to attain. We are so perfectly
tranquil, that not a particle of our whole frames seems ruffled or
discomposed., Mr. Locke is gayer and more sportive than I ever have
seen him; his Freddy seems made up of happiness; and the two dear
little girls are in spirits almost ecstatic; and all from that internal
contentment which Norbury Park seems to have gathered from all corners
of the world into its own sphere.
Our mornings, if fine, are to ourselves, as Mr. Locke rides out; if bad,
we assemble in the picture room. We have two books in public reading:
Madame de Sevigne's “Letters,” and Cook's last “Voyage.” Mrs. Locke
reads the French, myself the English.
Our conversations, too, are such as I could almost wish to last for
ever. Mr. Locke has been all himself,--all instruction, information,
and intelligence,--since we have been left alone; and the invariable
sweetness, as well as judgment, of all he says, leaves, indeed, nothing
to wish. They will not let me go while I can stay, and I am now most
willing to stay till I must go. The serenity of a life like this,
smoothes the whole internal surface of the mind. My own I assure you,
begins to feel quite glossy. To see Mrs. Locke so entirely restored
to total health, and to see her adoring husband lose all his torturing
Solicitude, while he retains his Unparalleled tenderness-these are
sights to anticipate a taste of paradise, if paradise has any felicity
consonant to our now ideas.
_Tuesday, Nov. 9._--This is Mr. William Locke's birthday; he is now
seventeen. He came home, with his brothers, to keep it, three days ago.
May they all be as long-lived and as happy as they are now sweet and
amiable! This sweet place is beautiful even yet, though no longer of a
beauty young and blooming, such as you left it; but the character Of the
prospect is so 'grand that winter cannot annihilate its charms, though
it greatly diminishes them. The variety of the grounds, and the striking
form of the hills, always afford something new to observe, and contain
something lasting to admire. Were I, however, in a desert, people such
as these would make it gay and cheery.
LADY F.'s ANGER AT MRS. PIOZZI'S MARRIAGE.