As for old Q. he may put you into his will, or scratch you out, as he pleases, I care not.

If Mr. Addington gives you the pension, it is well; but, do not let it fret you.  Have you not Merton?  It is clear—­the first purchase—­and my dear Horatia is provided for:  and, I hope, one of these days, that you will be my own Duchess of Bronte; and, then, a fig for them all!

I have just had a letter from Gibbs, of which I send you a copy.  You see what interest he is taking about Bronte.

I begin to think, without some assistance like his, that I never should have touched a farthing.  It will be 1805, before I touch the estate.  Neither principal or interest of the seven thousand ounces have been paid; and, it is now eight thousand ounces debt.

You will see, Gibbs, at last, has fixed on sending his daughter home; and I shall be glad of so good an opportunity of obliging him, as it will naturally tie him to my interest.  He was a great fool, not to have sent the child with you, as you wished.

I am glad to find, my dear Emma, that you mean to take Horatia home. Aye! she is like her mother; will have her own way, or kick up a devil of a dust.  But, you will cure her:  I am afraid I should spoil her; for, I am sure, I would shoot any one who would hurt her.

She was always fond of my watch; and, very probably, I might have promised her one:  indeed, I gave her one, which cost sixpence!  But, I go no where to get any thing pretty; therefore, do not think me neglectful.

I send you Noble’s letter; therefore, I hope you will get your cases in good order:  they have had some narrow escapes.

I am glad you liked South End.

How that Coffin could come over, and palaver, Rowley, Keith, &c. and Coffin to abuse the Earl!  Now, I can tell you, that he is the Earl’s spy.

It is Coffin, who has injured Sir Andrew Hammond so much:  and his custom is, to abuse the Earl, to get people to speak out; and, then, the Earl takes his measures accordingly.

To me, it is nothing.  Thank God! there can be no tales told of my cheating; or, I hope, neglecting my duty.  Whilst I serve, I will serve well, and closely; when I want rest, I will go to Merton.

You know, my dear Emma, that I am never well when it blows hard.  Therefore, imagine what a cruize off Toulon is; even in summer time, we have a hard gale every week, and two days heavy swell.

It would kill you; and myself, to see you.  Much less possible, to have Charlotte, Horatia, &c. on board ship!

And I, that have given orders to carry no women to sea in the Victory, to be the first to break them!

And, as to Malta, I may never see it, unless we have an engagement; and, perhaps, not then:  for, if it is complete, I may go home, for three months, to see you; but, if you was at Malta, I might absolutely miss you, by leaving the Mediterranean without warning.