A short time before dinner the chaplain made his appearance,—­a venerable old man, with hair white as snow:—­what renders his figure to be completely venerated, is the loss of sight.—­Her Ladyship rising from her seat, led me towards him:  Mr. Watson, said she, I am going to introduce a lady whose brightest charms will soon be visible to you.—­The best man in the world! whisper’d she, putting my hand in his;—­which hand I could not avoid putting to my lips.—­Thank you, Miss Warley, said her Ladyship, we all revere this gentleman.—­Mr. Watson was affected, some drops stole from their dark prisons, and he bless’d me as if I had been his daughter:—­my pleasure was exquisite,—­it seem’d as if I had receiv’d the benediction of an angel.

Our subjects turn’d more on the celestial than the terrestrial, till dinner was serv’d up,—­when I found that good knight which has been so long banish’d to the side-board, replac’d in his original station.

How different this table from many others! where genteel sprightly conversations are shut out; where such as cannot feast their senses on the genius of a cook, must rise unsatisfied.

A similitude of manners between your Ladyship and Lady Powis, particularly in doing the honours of the table, struck me so much, that I once or twice call’d her Lady Mary.—­Pray, Miss Warley, ask’d she, who is this Lady Mary?

What could occasion her confusion!—­what could occasion the confusion of Sir James!—­Never did I see any thing equal it, when I said it was Lady Mary Sutton!—­The significant looks that were interchang’d, spoke some mystery;—­a mystery it would be presumption in me to dive after.  Her Ladyship made no reply,—­Sir James was eager to vary the subject,—­and the conversation became general.

Though autumn is far advanc’d, every thing here wears the face of spring.—­The afternoon being remarkably fine Lady Powis, Lord Darcey, and myself, strolled out amongst the sweets.—­We walk’d a considerable time; his Lordship was all gaiety, talk’d with raptures of the improvements; declar’d every thing he had seen abroad fell short of this delightful spot; and now, my dear Lady Powis, added he, with an air of gallantry, I can see nothing wanting.

Nothing wanting! return’d her Ladyship, sighing:—­Ah! my Lord, you are not a parent!—­you feel nothing of a parent’s woe!—­you do not hourly regret the absence of a beloved and only son!  Don’t look serious, my dear Lord, seeing him somewhat abash’d, you have hitherto tenderly loved me.—­Perhaps I had a mind to augment your affection, by bringing to your recollection I was not happy.—­His Lordship made no reply, but, taking her hand, lifted it respectfully to his lips.

Mr. Jenkings is this moment coming up the lawn.  I see him from window;—­excuse me, my dear Lady, whilst I step to ask him how he does.