gone out with my aunt every day since, “leaving the square to solitude and me;” so I take my book with me (I can read walking at my quickest pace), and like to do so.

Tuesday evening I played Belvidera.  I was quite nervous at acting it again after so long a period.  After the play my father and I went to Lady Dacre’s and had a pleasant party enough.  Mrs. Norton was there, more entertaining and blinding beautiful than ever.  Henry desired me to give her his “desperate love,” to which she replied by sending the poor youth her “deadly scorn.”  Lord Melbourne desired to be introduced to me, and I think if he likes, he shall be the decrepit old nobleman you are so afraid of me marrying.  I was charmed with his face, voice, and manner; we dine with him next Wednesday week, and I will write you word if the impression deepens.

My dear H——­, only imagine my dismay; my father told me that after Easter I should have to play Lady Macbeth!  It is no use thinking about it, for that only frightens me more; but, looking at it as calmly and reasonably as possible, surely it is too great an undertaking for so young a person as myself.  Perhaps I may play it better than most girls of my age would; what will that amount to?  That towering, tremendous woman, what a trial of courage and composure for me!  If you were a good friend, now, you would come up to town “for that occasion only,” and sustain me with your presence.

The beautiful Miss Bayley is at length married to William Ashley [the present Earl of Shaftesbury], and everybody is rejoicing with them or for them; it is pleasant to catch glimpses of fresh shade and flowers as one goes along the dusty highroad of life.

I must now tell you what I am going to do, that you may know where to find me:  to-morrow, I go to a private morning concert with my mother; in the evening, I act Beatrice, and after the play all sorts of people are coming here to supper.  On Monday, I act Fazio; Wednesday, we dine at Lady Macdonald’s; Thursday, I act Mrs. Haller; and Saturday, Beatrice again.  I have not an idea what will be done for my benefit; we are all devising and proposing.  I myself want them to bring out Massinger’s “Maid of Honor;” I think it beautiful.

Now, dear H——­, I must leave off, and sign my tickets.  We all send our loves to you:  my mother tells me not to let you forget her; she says she is afraid you class her with Mrs. John Kemble.  If ever there were two dissimilar human beings, it is those two.  Ever your affectionate

FANNY.

                                 GREAT RUSSELL STREET, March 13, 1831. 
     DEAR H——­,