ments on his victims was to turn me
already sick and give me an agonizing pain in _my_ brain. I hope
their beneficial consequences did not end there.

I did all this reading before breakfast, and when I left my room it
was still too early for any one to be up, so I set off for a run in
the park. The morning was lovely, vivid, and bright, with soft
shadows flitting across the sky and chasing one another over the
sward, while a delicious fresh wind rustled the trees and rippled
the grass; and unable to resist the temptation, bonnetless as I
was, I set off at the top of my speed, running along the terrace,
past the grotto, and down a path where the syringa pelted me with
showers of mock-orange blossoms, till I came under some magnificent
old cedars, through whose black, broad-spread wings the morning sun
shone, drawing their great shadows on the sweet-smelling earth
beneath them, strewed with their russet-colored shedding. I thought
it looked and smelt like a Russia-leather carpet. Then I came to
the brink of the water, to a little deserted fishing pavilion
surrounded by a wilderness of bloom that was once a garden, and
then I ran home to breakfast. After breakfast I went over the very
same ground with Lady Francis, extremely demure, with my bonnet on
my head and a parasol in my hand, and the utmost propriety of
decorous demeanor, and said never a word of my mad morning's
explorings. A girl's run and a young lady's walk are very different
things, and I hold both pleasant in their way. The carriage was
ordered to take my mother to Addlestone to see poor old Mrs.
Whitelock, and during her absence Lady Francis and I repaired to
her own private sitting-room, and we entertained each other with
extracts from our respective journals. I was struck with the high
esteem she expressed for Lord Carlisle; in one place in her journal
she said she wished she could hope her boys would grow up as
excellent men as he is, and this in spite of her party politics,
for she is a Tory and he a Whig, and she is really a partisan
politician.

In the afternoon, after a charming meandering ride, we determined
to go to Monks Grove, the place Lady Charlotte Greville has taken
on St. Anne's Hill.... In the evening we had terrifical ghost
stories, which held, us fascinated til