pounds; she is quite shocked at the bill, which is really
exorbitant! In her next letter Miss Mitford reminds her father that
the taxes are still unpaid, and a correspondence follows with somebody
asking for a choice of the Doctor's pictures in payment for the taxes.
The Doctor is in London all the time, dining out and generally amusing
himself. Everybody is speculating whether Sir Francis Burdett will go
to the Tower.* 'Oh, my darling, how I envy you at the fountain-head of
intelligence in these interesting times! How I envy Lady Burdett for
the fine opportunity she has to show the heroism of our sex!' writes
the daughter, who is only encountering angry tax-gatherers at home....
Somehow or other the bills are paid for the time, and the family
arrangements go on as before.

*Here, in our little suburban garden at Wimbledon, are the remains of
an old hedgerow which used to grow in the kitchen garden of the Grange
where Sir Francis Burdett then lived. The tradition is that he was
walking in the lane in his own kitchen garden when he was taken up and
carried off to honourable captivity.--A.T.R.

Besides writing to the members of her own home, Miss Mitford started
another correspondent very early in life; this was Sir William Elford,
to whom she describes her outings and adventures, her visits to
Tavistock House, where her kind friends the Perrys receive her. Mr.
Perry was the editor of the Morning Chronicle; he and his beautiful wife
were the friends of all the most interesting people of the day. Here
again the present writer's own experiences can interpret the printed
page, for her own first sight of London people and of London society
came to her in a little house in Chesham Place, where her father's old
friends, Mrs. Frederick Elliot and Miss Perry, the daughters of Miss
Mitford's friends, lived with a very notable and interesting set of
people, making a social centre, by that kindly unconscious art
which cannot be defined; that quick apprehension, that benevolent
fastidiousness (I have to use rather far-fetched words) which are so
essential to good hosts and hostesses. A different standard is looked
for now, by the rising generations knocking at the doors, behind which
the dignified past is lying as stark as King Duncan himself!

Among other entertainments Miss Mitford went to the fetes which
celebrated the battle of Vittoria; she had also the happiness of getting
a good sight of Mme. de Stael, who was a great frien