You must allow I am a good correspondent--this half year at least. This
is Septr. 2, a most horrible day for a Bazaar, judging at least by the
weather here. But you may be better off. I came to this house a week
ago to visit a male friend, who duly started to England the day before I
got here. I therefore found myself domiciled in a house filled with
ladies of divers ages--Edgeworth's wife, aged--say 28--his mother aged
74--his sister (the great Maria) aged 72--and another cousin or
something--all these people very pleasant and kind: the house pleasant:
the grounds ditto: a good library: . . . so here I am quite at home. But
surely I must go to England soon: it seems to me as if that must take
place soon: and so send me a letter directed to me at Mr. Watcham's,
Naseby, Thornby. Those places are in England. You may put Northampton
after Thornby if you like. I am going to look at the winding up of the
harvest there.
I am now writing in the Library here: and the great Authoress is as busy
as a bee making a catalogue of her books beside me, chattering away. We
are great friends. She is as lively, active, and cheerful as if she were
but twenty; really a very entertaining person. We talk about Walter
Scott whom she adores, and are merry all the day long. I have read about
thirty-two sets of novels since I have been here: it has rained nearly
all the time.
I long to hear how the Bazaar went off: and so I beg you to tell me all
about it. When I began this letter I thought I had something to say: but
I believe the truth was I had nothing to do. When you see my dear Major
{89} give him my love, and tell him I wish he were here to go to
Connemara with me: I have no heart to go alone. The discomfort of Irish
inns requires a companion in misery. This part of the country is poorer
than any I have yet seen: the people becoming more Spanish also in face
and dress. Have you read The Collegians? {90a}
I have now begun to sketch heads on the blotting paper on which my paper
rests--a sure sign, as Miss Edgeworth tells me, that I have said quite
enough. She is right. Good-bye. In so far as this country is Ireland I
am glad to be here: but inasmuch as it is not England I wish I were
there.
_To S. Laurence_.
NASEBY, _Septr_. 28/41.