(1781,) Feb. 11, Sunday morning, Cleveland Court.--I received your
letter of the 5th, yesterday, in the afternoon, and another of the same
date from Dr. Ekins, at the same time the day before: why they did not
come together, I know not. But so it has happened, I believe more than
once before, since my connections with Ireland, which I wish to God
were at an end. There is one indeed which will plague me, while I live,
and that is an annuity upon Mr. Gore's estate, which I must sue for as
regularly as it becomes due.

I was prevented from writing to you yesterday by I do not know how much
disagreeable occupation. I had a Drum, and that began early; I was to
prepare for it, I was to be served in ambigu, and it was to be the
easiest, most agreeable, best understood thing in the world. It was to
my apprehension the very antipode of this. I do not know how my company
felt, but I was not at my ease a moment. I had a Commerce table, and
one of Whist. My company were Middletons,(149) Bostons,(150)
Townshends, and Selwyns.

March came to the door at eleven, but hearing that supper was served,
and almost over, and perhaps hearing of the company too, he went away;
they were all good kind of people, and who I dare say had conversation
enough in their own families, but although we were all related, we had
not one word to say to one another. There was Mr. Methuen, Lady
Boston's father, who seems to be a shrewd entertaining man, if he was
where he found himself at home. The cook, the housekeeper, and Maitre
Jacques all exerted themselves, and did their parts tolerably well, but
rien n'a pu me mettre a mon aise, and the more I tried to be at home,
the more I was desoriente; so I believe I shall try some other kind of
party for the future; otherwise I may say que le jeu ne vaut pas la