nd a year. Their
hospitality was profuse, they had servants, carriages, they bought
pictures and furniture, they entertained. Cobbett was among their
intimate friends. The Doctor naturally enough invested in a good many
more lottery tickets, but without any further return.

The ladies seem to take it as a matter of course that he should
speculate and gamble at cards, and indeed do anything and everything he
fancied, but they beg him at least to keep to respectable clubs. He is
constantly away. His daughter tries to tempt him home with the bloom of
her hyacinths. 'How they long to see him again!' she says, 'how greatly
have they been disappointed, when, every day, the journey to Reading has
been fruitless. The driver of the Reading coach is quite accustomed
to being waylaid by their carriage.' Then she tells him about the
primroses, but neither hyacinths nor primroses bring the Doctor away
from his cards. Finally, the rhododendrons and the azaleas are in bloom,
but these also fail to attract him.

Miss Mitford herself as she grows up is sent to London more than
once, to the St. Quintin's and elsewhere. She goes to the play and to
Westminster Hall, she sees her hero, Charles James Fox, and has the
happiness of watching him helped on to his horse. Mr. Romilly delights
her, but her greatest favourite of all is Mr. Whitbread. 'You know I am
always an enthusiast,' she writes, 'but at present it is impossible to
describe the admiration I feel for this exalted character.' She speaks
of his voice 'which she could listen to with transport even if he spoke
in an unknown language!' she writes a sonnet to him, 'an impromptu, on
hearing Mr. Whitbread declare in Westminster Hall that he fondly trusted
his name would descend to posterity.'

'The hope of Fame thy noble bosom fires,
Nor vain the hope thy ardent mind inspires;
In British breasts whilst Purity remains,
Whilst Liberty her blessed abode retains,
Still shall the muse of History proclaim
To future ages thy immortal name!'

There are many references to the celebrities of the time in her
letters home,--every one agrees as to the extreme folly of Sheridan's
entertainments, Mrs. Opie is spoken of as a rising authoress, etc. etc.
etc.

Miss Austen used to go to 23 Hans Place, and Miss Mitford used to stay
at No. 22, but not at the same time. Mrs. Mitford had known Miss Austen
as a child. She may perhaps be forgiven for some prejudice and ma