BEIGHTERTON, NEAR SHIFFNALL,

_Oct. 10, 1779._

I have received your letter, and I thank you for it, though I assure you
I did not expect it. I am particularly desirous you should be convinced
of this, as I _told_ you I would write first. It is in vain to attempt
to please a person who will not tell us what they _do_ and what they do
_not_ desire; but as I tell you very fully what I think may be expected
from a girl of your age, abilities, and education, I assure you, my dear
Maria, you may entirely depend upon me, that as long as I have the use
of my understanding, I shall not be displeased with you for omitting
anything which I had before told you I did not expect. Perhaps you may
not quite understand what I mean, for I have not expressed myself
clearly. If you do not, I will explain myself to you when we meet; for
it is very agreeable to me to think of conversing with you as my equal
in every respect but age, and of my making that inequality of use to you
by giving you the advantage of the experience I have had, and the
observations I have been able to make, as these are parts of knowledge
which nothing but time can bestow.

* * * * *

In the spring of 1780 Mrs. Honora Edgeworth died of consumption, leaving
an only son, Lovell, and a daughter, Honora. Mr. Edgeworth announced
this--which to her was a most real sorrow--to his daughter Maria in a
very touching letter, in which he urges her to follow her lost
stepmother's example, especially in endeavouring to be "amiable,
prudent, and _of use;_" but within eight months he married again. Mrs.