Well, but now for ourselves, and those about us.

Lady Olivia has written a letter from Windsor to Lady L——.  It is in
French; extremely polite.  She promises to write to me from Oxford.

Lady Anne S——­ made me a visit this morning.  She was more concerned than I wished to see her, on my confirming the report she had heard of my brother’s being gone abroad.  I rallied her a little too freely, as it was before Lord G——­ and Lord L——.  I never was better rebuked than by her; for she took out her pencil, and on the cover of a letter wrote these lines from Shakespeare, and slid them into my hand: 

      “And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
      To join with men in scorning your poor friend? 
      It is not friendly; ’tis not maidenly: 
      Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
      Though I alone do feel the injury.”

I never, my dear, told you how freely this lady and I had talked of love:  but, freely as we had talked, I was not aware that the matter lay so deep in her heart.  I knew not how to tell her that my brother had said, it could not be.  I could have wept over her when I read this paper; and I owned myself by a whisper justly rebuked.  She charged me not to let any man see this; particularly not either of those present:  and do you, Harriet, keep what I have written of Lady Anne to yourself.

My aunt Eleanor has written a congratulatory letter to me from York.  Sir Charles, it seems, had acquainted her with Lord G——­’s day, [Not my day, Harriet! that is not the phrase, I hope!] as soon as he knew it himself; and she writes, supposing that I was actually offered on it.  Women are victims on these occasions:  I hope you’ll allow me that.  My brother has made it a point of duty to acquaint his father’s sister with every matter of consequence to the family; and now, she says, that both her nieces are so well disposed of, she will come to town very quickly to see her new relations and us; and desires we will make room for her.  And yet she owns, that my brother has informed her of his being obliged to go abroad; and she supposes him gone.  As he is the beloved of her heart, I wonder she thinks of making this visit now he is absent:  but we shall all be glad to see my aunt Nell.  She is a good creature, though an old maid.  I hope the old lady has not utterly lost either her invention, or memory; and then, between both, I shall be entertained with a great number of love-stories of the last age; and perhaps of some dangers and escapes; which may serve for warnings for Emily.  Alas! alas! they will come too late for your Charlotte!

I have written already the longest letter that I ever wrote in my life:  yet it is prating; and to you, to whom I love to prate.  I have not near done.