MARIA _to_ MISS SOPHY RUXTON IN NORTH WALES.

EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _June 20, '98._

Hitherto all has been quiet in our county, and we know nothing of the
dreadful disturbances in other parts of the country but what we see in
the newspapers. I am sorry my uncle and Richard were obliged to leave
you and my dear aunt, as I know the continual state of suspense and
anxiety in which you must live while they are away. I fear that we may
soon know by experience what you feel, for my father sees in to-night's
paper that Lord Cornwallis is coming over here as Lord-Lieutenant; and
he thinks it will be his duty to offer his services in any manner in
which they can be advantageous. Why cannot we be left in peace to enjoy
our happiness? that is all we have the conscience to ask! We are indeed
happy: the more I see of my friend and mother, the more I love and
esteem her, and the more I feel the truth of all that I have heard you
say in her praise. I do not think I am _much_ prejudiced by her
partiality for me, though I do feel most grateful for her kindness. I
never saw my father at any period of his life appear so happy as he
does, and has done for this month past; and you know that he _tastes_
happiness as much as any human being can. He is not of the number of
those _qui avalent leurs plaisirs, il sait les gouter._ So little change
has been made in the way of living, that you would feel as if you were
going on with your usual occupations and conversation amongst us. We
laugh and talk, and enjoy the good of every day, which is more than
sufficient. How long this may last we cannot tell. I am going on in the
old way, writing stories. I cannot be a captain of dragoons, and sitting
with my hands before me would not make any of us one degree safer. I
know nothing more of _Practical Education_: it is advertised to be