--and then the children: to think of rejecting an
opportunity of being so useful--or at least of trying to be so! All
these thoughts, turned over and over in my mind oftener than I
myself knew before we left Minto, _did_ make me think that
perhaps I had decided rashly. Now do not repeat this, dear Mary; I
have said more to you than to anybody yet--but I am sorry it is
time to stop, I have so much more to say. I cannot say how grateful
I am to Papa and Mama for leaving me so free in all this, and to
you for writing.

Ever your most affectionate sister, FANNY

The day after this letter was written she saw Lord John again. "He called
and had a long conversation with Mama.... Mama liked him better than
ever."

_Lady Minto to Lady Mary Abercromby_

ADMIRALTY, _March_ 18, 1841

... I must now return to _the_ subject. I told you of the
conversation I had with Fanny when she spoke so openly and so
sensibly of her feelings.... She said she was too old to think it
necessary to be what is called desperately in love, and without
feeling that his age was an objection or that the disparity was too
great, yet, she said, if he had been a younger man she would have
decided long ago. And that is the truth. It is his age alone that
prevents her at once deciding in his favour. It prevents those
feelings arising in her mind, without which it would be a struggle
to accept him, and this she never will do. She was therefore
desirous that he should know the state of her feelings, that she
might be again at her ease. He had seen her manner cold towards
him, and wrote to say that he would call upon me yesterday. I was
_horribly_ frightened, as I hate lovers, and you must allow
that it was a difficult task to go through.... However, he put me
so completely at my ease by his sensible, open, gentle manner, that
my task was less difficult than I expected--except that I fell in
love with him so desperately, he touched my heart so deeply that I
could scarcely refrain from promising him Fanny whenever he chose.
There is a depth of feeling and humility about him, and a candour
and generosity in his judgments, that I never saw so strongly in
anyone before, and every word that he spoke made me regret more and
more the barrier that prevents him from becoming one of us. I said,
of course, Fanny's wish and ours coul