There has been more serious work in the Lords, upon much less important matter; a bill for regulating the poor,—­(don’t ask me how, for you know I am a perfect goose about details of business,) formed by one Gilbert,(785) a member, and steward to the Duke of Bridgewater, or Lord Gower, or both,—­had passed pacifically through the Commons, but Lord Egmont set fire to it in the Lords.  On the second reading, he opposed it again, and made a most admired speech; however it passed on.  But again, last Tuesday, when it was to be in the committee, such forces were mustered against the bill, that behold all the world regarded it as a pitched battle between Lord Bute and Lord Holland on One side, and the Bedfords and Grenville on the other.  You may guess if it grew a day of expectation.  When it arrived, Lord Bute was not present, Lord Northumberland voted for the bill, and Lord Holland went away.  Still politicians do not give up the mystery.  Lord Denbigh and Lord Pomfret, especially the latter, were the most personal against his Grace of Bedford.  He and his friends, they say, (for I was not there, as you will find presently,) kept their temper well.  At ten at night the House divided, and, to be sure, the minority was dignified; it consisted of the Dukes of York and Gloucester, the Chancellor, Chief Justice, Lord President, Privy Seal, Lord Chamberlain, Chamberlain to the Queen, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and a Secretary of State.  Lord Halifax, the other Secretary, was ill.  The numbers were 44 to 58.  Lord Pomfret then moved to put off the bill for four months; but the cabinet rallied, and rejected the motion by a majority of one.  So it is to come on again after the holidays.  The Duke of Newcastle, Lord Temple, and the opposition, had once more the pleasure, which, I believe, they don’t dislike, of being in a majority.

Now, for my disaster; you will laugh at it, though it was woful to me.  I was to dine at Northumberland-house, and went a little after four:  there I found the Countess, Lady Betty Mekinsy, Lady Strafford; my Lady Finlater,(787) who was never out of Scotland before; a tall lad of fifteen, her son; Lord Drogheda, and Mr. Worseley.(788) At five,(789) arrived Mr. Mitchell,(790) who said the Lords had begun to read the Poor-bill, which would take at least two hours, and perhaps would debate it afterwards.  We concluded dinner would be called for, it not being Very precedented for ladies to wait for gentlemen:—­no such thing.  Six o’clock came,—­seven o’clock came,—­our coaches came,—­well! we sent them away, and excuses were we were engaged.  Still the Countess’s heart did not relent, nor uttered a syllable of apology.  We wore out the wind and the weather, the opera and the play, Mrs. Cornelys’s and Almack’s, and every topic that would do in a formal circle.  We hinted, represented—­in vain.  The clock struck eight:  my lady, at last, said, she would go and order dinner; but it was a good half hour before it