addressed as a sort of reproach to the lugubrious letters of her sister.
She said pointedly once: "Really, if we are to be miserable, I turn
Catholic and go into a convent." The strange thing was that Arabella
imagined her letters to be rather of a cheerful character. She related
the daily events at Brookfield:--the change in her father's soups, and
his remarks on them, and which he preferred; his fight with his medicine,
and declaration that he was as sound as any man on shore; the health of
the servants; Mr. Marter the curate's call with a Gregorian chant; doubts
of his orthodoxy; Cornelia's lonely walks and singular appetite; the
bills, and so forth--ending, "What is to be said further of her?"

In return, Adela's delight was to date each day from a different port, to
which, catching the wind, the party had sailed, and there slept. The
ladies were under the protecting wing of the Hon. Mrs. Bayruffle, a
smooth woman of the world. "You think she must have sinned in her time,
but are certain it will never be known," wrote Adela. "I do confess,
kind as she is, she does me much harm; for when she is near me I begin to
think that Society is everything. Her tact is prodigious; it is never
seen--only felt. I cannot describe her influence; yet it leads to
nothing. I cannot absolutely respect her; but I know I shall miss her
acutely when we part. What charm does she possess? I call her the Hon.
Mrs. Heathen--Captain G., the Hon. Mrs. Balm. I know you hate nicknames.
Be merciful to people yachting. What are we to do? I would look through
a telescope all day and calculate the number of gulls and gannets we see;
but I am not so old as Sir T., and that occupation could not absorb me.
I begin to understand Lady Charlotte and her liking for Mr. Powys better.
He is ready to play or be serious, as you please; but in either
case 'Merthyr is never a buffoon nor a parson'--Lady C. remarked this
morning; and that describes him, if it were not for the detestable fling
at the clergy, which she never misses. It seems in her blood to think