once raised her eyes, so that our correspondent cannot speak decidedly
as to the expression of her countenance, but if we may be allowed to say
so, she is not a beauty, and is very low. She was dressed in white and
gold," etc. etc.

The children all desire their love: they were playing the other day at
going to Black Castle, and begged me to be Aunt Ruxton, which I assured
them I would if I could; but they insisted on my _being_ Sophy, Letty,
and Margaret at the same time, and were not quite contented at my
pleading this to be out of my power.


_To_ MISS SOPHY RUXTON.

CLIFTON, _March 9, 1792._

I wish, my dear Sophy, that you could know how often I think of you and
wish for you, whenever we see or hear anything that I imagine you would
like. How does your ward go on? My mother desires me to say the kindest
things to you, and assure yourself, my dear Sophy, that when my mother
says the kindest, they are always at the same time the truest. She is
not a person ever to forget a favour, and the care and trouble you are
now bestowing on little Thomas Day will be remembered probably after you
have forgotten it. But my father interrupts me at this moment, to say
that if I am writing to Sophy I must give him some room at the end, so I
shall leave off my fine speeches. We spend our time very agreeably here,
and have in particular great choice of books. I don't think the children
are quite as happy here as they used to be at home, it is impossible
they should be, for they have neither the same occupations nor liberty.
It is however "restraint that sweetens liberty," and the joy they show