particularly one hereafter mentioned, who were known not to approve of my marriage with Mr. Cranstoun.  My father also frequently made my mother very uneasy, on account of her approbation of that marriage; tho’ he always declared, that he thought Mr. Cranstoun a most agreeable man.  Whilst he was last at my father’s house, the regiment of marines to which he belonged was broke at Southampton; which obliged him to go thither:  But he did not stay there above two or three days; and upon his return to Henley, was received by my father with great tenderness, who told him, that “as he was now broke, he supposed his cash, would run low; and that therefore he was welcome to stay with him.”  This happening in my presence, I went up to my father kissed him, and said, “Sir, I shall never forget this goodness.”  Mr. Cranstoun having lost his post in the regiment of marines, did not remain long in Henley; but set out soon for London, where he made a pretty, considerable stay.  We kept up, however, our correspondence, as usual in times of absence, he writing to me almost every post.

A few months after Mr. Cranstoun’s return from Southampton, my mother went up to London, in order to ask advice for a complaint in her breast, and took me along with her.  Upon our arrival there, we went to her brother’s, Mr. Henry Steven’s, in Doctors’ Commons, where we resided all the time we remained in town.  I had before apprized Mr Cranstoun of our intended journey; and he waited upon me the next morning after our arrival at my uncle’s.  Hither he came every day to visit me, whilst we stayed in London.  Once he brought his brother, the Lord Cranstoun, with him, who was then just married.  One of Mr. Cranstoun’s visits happening a little before dinner, my mother asked her brother, Mr. Henry Stevens, to invite him to dinner; but this favour was refused her:  On which, coming into the dining-room, whore she found me and Mr. Cranstoun, she took him by the hand, and burst into tears, saying, “My dear Mr. Cranstoun, I am sorry you should be so affronted by any of my family, but I dare not ask you to stay to dinner.  However, continued she, come to me as often as you can in my own apartment; in a morning I am always alone.”  To this Mr. Cranstoun made answer, “My dear mamma, don’t be uneasy—­I don’t come for the sake of them, but of you and your daughter.  And let him put on never so terrible a face, he shall not keep me from you.”  At this time Mrs. Focock was in town, and had a house in St. James’s Square, to which I used to go most days.  Hither Mr. Cranstoun perpetually came, when he understood that I was here; and that with my father’s, who arrived in town after we had reached it, and mother’s consent.  Mrs. Pocock often asked my father, whilst in London, to make one of the party.  But he answered her, “You keep such quality hours, as neither agree with my health, nor suit my business; however, you will have two parts of me, my wife and my daughter.”  “Yes,” replied Mrs. Pocock, “and