on:--

She was exceeding kind to me, and I spent most of my time with her
as I liked. I say most, because a good deal of it was spent in
company, where I heard of nothing but chariots and horses, and
curricles and tandems. Oh, to what contempt I exposed myself in a
luckless hour, by asking what a tandem was! Since I have been away
from home I have missed the society and fondness of my father,
mother and sisters, more than I can express, and more than
beforehand I could have thought possible; I long to see them all
again. Even when I am most amused I feel a void, and now I
understand what an aching void is perfectly well.

A letter written from Clifton is a charming specimen of Miss Edgeworth's
easy, warm-hearted family missives, which, like most family letters,
contain little of intrinsic value, and yet throw much light upon the
nature of their writer:--

CLIFTON, Dec. 13, 1792.

The day of retribution is at hand, my dear aunt. The month of May
will soon come, and then when we meet face to face, and voucher to
voucher, it shall be truly seen whose letter-writing account stands
fullest and fairest in the world. Till then "we'll leave it all to
your honor's honor." But why does my dear aunt write, "I can have
but little more time to spend with my brother in my life," as if
she was an old woman of one hundred and ninety-nine and upwards? I
remember the day I left Black Castle you told me, if you recollect,
that "you had one foot in the grave;" and though I saw you standing
before me in perfect health, sound wind and limb, I had the
weakness to feel frightened, and never to think of examining where
your feet really were. But in the month of May we hope to find them
safe in your shoes, and I hope that the sun will then shine out,
and that all the black clouds in the political horizon will be
dispersed, and that "freemen" will, by that time, eat their
puddings and hold their tongues. Anna and I stayed one week with
Mrs. Powys, at Bath, and were very thoroughly occupied all the time
with seeing and--I won't say with being seen; for though we were at
three balls, I do not believe any one saw us. The upper rooms we
thought very splendid and the play-houses pretty, but not so good
as the theatre at Bristol. We walked all over Bath with my father,
and liked it extr