Dearest Eleanor,

You have so often reminded me how rapidly the most startling facts pass
from the memory of man, and I have so often thereupon promised to write
down a full account of that mysterious affair in which I was
providentially called upon to play so prominent a part, that it is with
shame I reflect that the warning has been unheeded and the promise
unfulfilled. Do not, dear friend, accuse my affection, but my engrossing
duties and occupations, for this neglect, and believe that I now take
advantage of my first quiet evening for many months to fulfil your wish.

Betty has just brought me a cup of tea, and I have told the girl to be
within call; for once a heroine is not always a heroine, dear Nell. I am
full of childish terrors, and I assure you it is with no small mental
effort that I bring myself to recall the terrible events of the year
1813.

Oddly enough, it was on the first day of this year that I made the
acquaintance of Mr. George Manners; and I think I can do no better than
begin by giving you an extract from the first page of my journal at that
time.

"_Jan. 1, 1813_.--It is mid-day, and very fine, but it was no easy
matter to be at service this morning after all good Dr. Penn's
injunctions, as last night's dancing, and the long drive home, made me
sleepy, and Harriet is still in bed.

"Though I am not so handsome as Harriet, and boast of no conquests, and
though the gentlemen do not say the wonderfully pretty things to me that
they seem to do to her, I have much enjoyed several balls since my