Lady Sandis [Sandys], who seems so fond of race meetings and other less harmless amusements, was the wife of William Lord Sandys, and daughter of the Earl of Salisbury.  Lord Sandys’ country house was Motesfont or Mottisfont Priory, in Hampshire, “which the King had given him in exchange for Chelsea, in Westminster.”  So says Leland, the antiquary and scholar, in his Itinerary; but it is a little puzzling to the modern mind with preconceived notions of Chelsea, to hear it spoken of as a seat or estate in Westminster.  Colonel Tom Paunton is to me merely a name; and J. Morton is nothing more, unless we may believe him to be Sir John Morton, Bart. of Milbourne, St. Andrew, in Nottinghamshire.  This addition of a local habitation and a name gives us no further knowledge, however, of the scandal to which Dorothy alludes.

Mistress Stanley and Mistress Witherington have left no trace of their identity that I can find, but Mistress Philadelphia Carey is not wholly unknown.  She was the second daughter of Thomas Carey, one of the Earl of Monmouth’s sons, and readers may be pleased to know that she did marry Sir Henry Littleton.

Of the scandal concerning Lord Rich I am not sorry to know nothing.

May 25th [1654].

This world is composed of nothing but contrarieties and sudden accidents, only the proportions are not at all equal; for to a great measure of trouble it allows so small a quantity of joy, that one may see ’tis merely intended to keep us alive withal.  This is a formal preface, and looks as if there were something of very useful to follow; but I would not wish you to expect it.  I was only considering my own ill-humour last night, I had not heard from you in a week or more, my brother had been with me and we had talked ourselves both out of breath and patience too, I was not very well, and rose this morning only because I was weary of lying in bed.  When I had dined I took a coach and went to see whether there was ever a letter for me, and was this once so lucky as to find one.  I am not partial to myself I know, and am contented that the pleasure I have received with this, shall serve to sweeten many sad thoughts that have interposed since your last, and more that I may reasonably expect before I have another; and I think I may (without vanity) say, that nobody is more sensible of the least good fortune nor murmurs less at an ill than I do, since I owe it merely to custom and not to any constancy in my humour, or something that is better.  No, in earnest, anything of good comes to me like the sun to the inhabitants of Greenland, it raises them to life when they see it, and when they miss it, it is not strange they expect a night of half a year long.