have been, to require so much physic!

"But they are a sad expense, these dear babies, after all. Fancy, Eliza,
how much this Mary Malowney costs us. Ten shillings every week; a glass
of brandy or gin at dinner; three pint-bottles of Mr. Thrale's best
porter every day,--making twenty-one in a week, and nine hundred and
ninety in the eleven months she has been with us. Then, for baby, there
is Dr. Bates's bill of forty-five guineas, two guineas for christening,
twenty for a grand christening supper and ball (rich uncle John mortally
offended because he was made godfather, and had to give baby a silver
cup: he has struck Thomas out of his will: and old Mr. Firkin quite as
much hurt because he was NOT asked: he will not speak to me or Thomas
in consequence) twenty guineas for flannels, laces, little gowns, caps,
napkins, and such baby's ware: and all this out of 300L. a year! But
Thomas expects to make A GREAT DEAL by his farm.

"We have got the most charming country-house YOU CAN IMAGINE: it is
QUITE SHUT IN by trees, and so retired that, though only thirty miles
from London, the post comes to us but once a week. The roads, it must be
confessed, are execrable; it is winter now, and we are up to our knees
in mud and snow. But oh, Eliza! how happy we are: with Thomas (he has
had a sad attack of rheumatism, dear man!) and little Bobby, and our
kind friend Dr. Bates, who comes so far to see us, I leave you to
fancy that we have a charming merry party, and do not care for all the
gayeties of Ranelagh.

"Adieu! dear baby is crying for his mamma. A thousand kisses from your
affectionate

"SUSAN STUBBS."