In another letter, the fair writer says,—­“Lord Byron desired me to tell you that the reason you did not hear from him was because his publication was not so forward as he had flattered himself it would have been.  I told him, ’he was no more to be depended on than a woman,’ which instantly brought the softness of that sex into his countenance, for he blushed exceedingly.”]

[Footnote 70:  He was, indeed, a thorough boy, at this period, in every respect:—­“Next Monday” (says Miss ——­) “is our great fair.  Lord Byron talks of it with as much pleasure as little Henry, and declares he will ride in the round-about,—­but I think he will change his mind.”]

[Footnote 71:  He here alludes to an odd fancy or trick of his own;—­whenever he was at a loss for something to say, he used always to gabble over “1 2 3 4 5 6 7.”]

[Footnote 72:  Notwithstanding the abuse which, evidently more in sport than seriousness, he lavishes, in the course of these letters, upon Southwell, he was, in after days, taught to feel that the hours which he had passed in this place were far more happy than any he had known afterwards.  In a letter written not long since to his servant, Fletcher, by a lady who had been intimate with him, in his young days, at Southwell, there are the following words:—­“Your poor, good master always called me ‘Old Piety,’ when I preached to him.  When he paid me his last visit, he said, ’Well, good friend, I shall never be so happy again as I was in old Southwell.’” His real opinion of the advantages of this town, as a place of residence, will be seen in a subsequent letter, where he most strenuously recommends it, in that point of view, to Mr. Dallas.]

[Footnote 73:  It may be as well to mention here the sequel of this enthusiastic attachment.  In the year 1811 young Edleston died of a consumption, and the following letter, addressed by Lord Byron to the mother of his fair Southwell correspondent, will show with what melancholy faithfulness, among the many his heart had then to mourn for, he still dwelt on the memory of his young college friend:—­

“Cambridge, Oct. 28. 1811.

“Dear Madam,

“I am about to write to you on a silly subject, and yet I cannot well do otherwise.  You may remember a cornelian, which some years ago I consigned to Miss ——­, indeed gave to her, and now I am going to make the most selfish and rude of requests.  The person who gave it to me, when I was very young, is dead, and though a long time has elapsed since we met, as it was the only memorial I possessed of that person (in whom I was very much interested), it has acquired a value by this event I could have wished it never to have borne in my eyes.  If, therefore, Miss ——­ should have preserved it, I must, under these circumstances, beg her to excuse my requesting it to be transmitted to me at No. 8.  St. James’s Street, London, and I will replace it by something she may remember me by equally well.  As she was always so kind as to feel interested in the fate of him that formed the subject of our conversation, you may tell her that the giver of that cornelian died in May last of a consumption, at the age of twenty-one, making the sixth, within four months, of friends and relatives that I have lost between May and the end of August.