I have contrived to pass the holidays with Mr. and Mrs. Hanson, to
whom I am greatly obliged for their hospitality. You are now within a
days journey of my _amiable Mama_. If you wish your spirits _raised_,
or rather _roused_, I would recommend you to pass a week or two with
her. However I daresay she would behave very well to _you_, for you do
not know her disposition so well as I do. I return you, my dear Girl,
a thousand thanks for hinting to Mr. H. and Lord C. my uncomfortable
situation, I shall always remember it with gratitude, as a most
_essential service_. I rather think that, if you were any time with my
mother, she would bore you about your marriage which she _disapproves_
of, as much for the sake of finding fault as any thing, for that is
her favourite amusement. At any rate she would be very inquisitive,
for she was always tormenting me about it, and, if you told her any
thing, she might very possibly divulge it; I therefore advise you,
_when you see her_ to say nothing, or as little, about it, as you can
help. If you make haste, you can answer this _well written_ epistle by
return of post, for I wish again to hear from you immediately; you
need not fill _eleven pages, nine_ will be sufficient; but whether it
contains nine pages or nine lines, it will always be most welcome, my
beloved Sister, to Your affectionate Brother and Friend, BYRON.



[Footnote 1: The Hon. Frederick Howard, third son of Lord Carlisle, the
"young, gallant Howard" of _Childe Harold_ (Canto III. stanzas xxix,
xxx; see Byron's note), was killed at Waterloo. "The best of his race,"
says Byron, in a letter to Moore, July 7, 1815.]