ARBELLA TO MATILDA

Woodlands. 'You saw me last, a poor, pining, discontented thing, tired of town, sick of smoke, noise, and cousin Stockwell. We part, and hey! presto! before you have time to inquire after me, the London-bred Arbella is transformed into your faithful shepherdess. How I have come here you will wonder; but wonder on, for the steps that led to my present situation were so painful I cannot yet bear to recal them; so they shall be made the subject of another letter when I am possessed / of more spirits than I can boast at present. My task is, at this moment, to try to enliven Lady Torrendale, who is very solitary and very cross; and his Lordship, who is a little better, being very well satisfied with himself for having contrived to whirl her into Derbyshire so soon after Strathallan's marriage. But, even in his best humour, such a wet blanket (if the elegant Matilda will forgive the familiar expression) my conversation never coped withal: with his air of immense condescension in making some trifling inquiry, the answer to which he never deigns to wait for; his silent sneer and affected stare of astonishment if one ventures of oneself to address his gravity; and the delightful self-satisfaction with which he delivers some common-place saw, as if it were one of the most irrefragable dictates of human wisdom – Oh, my dear! you may call him a “worthy character,” or a “respectable character,” or any of the other of your long et cetera of apologies for dullness; but if the man has any merits, they are so hedged in, over-grown and smothered with his pomposity, and his solemnity, and his absurdity, that I find them quite impervious to my research. For some reason or other, he has lately been entertaining, I believe, the whole county.