A thousand thanks, my dear and Beloved Augusta, for your affectionate
Letter, and so ready compliance with the request of a peevish and
fretful Brother; it acted as a cordial on my drooping spirits and for
a while dispelled the Gloom which envelopes me in this uncomfortable
place. You see what power your letters have over me, so I hope you
will be liberal in your epistolary consolation.

You will address your next letter to Harrow as I set out from
Southwell on Wednesday, and am sorry that I cannot contrive to be with
you, as I must resume my studies at Harrow directly. If I speak in
public at all, it will not be till the latter end of June or the
beginning of July. You are right in your conjecture for I feel not a
little nervous in the anticipation _of my Debut_ [1] as _an orator_.
By the bye, I do not dislike Harrow. I find _ways_ and _means_ to
amuse _myself very pleasantly_ there; the friend, whose correspondence
I find so amusing, is an old sporting companion of mine, whose
recitals of Shooting and Hunting expeditions are amusing to me as
having often been his companion in them, and I hope to be so still
oftener.

My mother Gives a _party_ to night at which the principal _Southwell
Belles_ will be present, with one of which, although I don't as yet
know whom I shall so far _honour, having never seen them_, I intend to
_fall violently_ in love; it will serve as an amusement _pour passer
le temps_ and it will at least have the charm of novelty to recommend
it, then you know in the course of a few weeks I shall be quite _au
desespoir_, shoot myself and Go out of the world with _eclat_, and my
History will furnish materials for a pretty little Romance which shall
be entitled and denominated the loves of Lord B. and the cruel and
Inconstant Sigismunda Cunegunda Bridgetina, etc., etc., Princess of