’Our dinner was in its arrangement totally unlike anything I had seen in France, or anywhere else.  It consisted of a monstrous, but excellent, wild boar ham; this, and a large savoury pie of different sorts of game, were the principal dishes; which, with some common vegetables, amply satisfied our hunger.  The blunt hospitality of this rural baron was totally different from that which is to be met with in remote parts of the country of England.  It was more the open-heartedness of a soldier than the roughness of a squire.’

During the winter of 1772 Edgeworth was busy making plans for flour-mills to be erected on a piece of land gained from the river.  But his stay in Lyons was cut short as the news reached him in March 1773 that Mrs. Edgeworth, who had returned to England for her confinement, had died after giving birth to a daughter.  He travelled home with his son through Burgundy and Paris, and on reaching England arranged to meet Mr. Day at Woodstock.  His friend greeted him with the words,’ Have you heard anything of Honora Sneyd ?’

Mr. Edgeworth continues:  ’I assured him that I had heard nothing but what he had told me when he was in France; that she had some disease in her eyes, and that it was feared she would lose her sight.’  I added that I was resolved to offer her my hand, even if she had undergone such a dreadful privation.

’"My dear friend,” said he, “while virtue and honour forbade you to think of her, I did everything in my power to separate you; but now that you are both at liberty, I have used the utmost expedition to reach you on your arrival in England, that I might be the first to tell you that Honora is in perfect health and beauty, improved in person and in mind; and, though surrounded by lovers, still her own mistress.”

’At this moment I enjoyed the invaluable reward of my steady adherence to the resolution which I had formed on leaving England, never to keep up the slightest intercourse with her by letter, message, or inquiry.  I enjoyed also the proof my friend gave me of his generous affection.  Mr. Day had now come several hundred miles for the sole purpose of telling me of the fair prospects before me. . . .

’A new era in my life was now beginning. ...  I went directly to Lichfield, to Dr. Darwin’s.  The doctor was absent, but his sister, an elderly maiden lady, who then kept house for him, received me kindly.

’"You will excuse me,” said the good lady, “for not making tea for you this evening, as I am engaged to the Miss Sneyds; but perhaps you will accompany me, as I am sure you will be welcome.”

’It was summer—­We found the drawing-room at Mr. Sneyd’s filled by all my former acquaintances and friends, who had, without concert among themselves, assembled as if to witness the meeting of two persons, whose sentiments could scarcely be known even to the parties themselves.

’I have been told that the last person whom I addressed or saw, when I came into the room, was Honora Sneyd.  This I do not remember; but I am perfectly sure that, when I did see her, she appeared to me most lovely, even more lovely than when we parted.  What her sentiments might be it was impossible to divine.