We have seen a great deal of our dear Delesserts, and of Madame de
Rumford, [Footnote: First married to Lavoisier, the celebrated chemist,
then to Count Rumford, the scientist, from whom she was separated for
many years. She was now again a widow.] who gave us a splendid and most
agreeable dinner. And one evening with the Princess Potemkin, who
is--take notice--only a Princess by courtesy, as she has married a
Potemkin, who is not a Prince, and though she was born Princess
Galitzin, she loses her rank by marrying an inferior, according to
Russian and French custom, and they are, with reason, surprised at our
superior gallantry, once a lady always a lady. But whether Princess or
not Princess, our Madame Potemkin is most charming, and you may bless
your stars that you are not obliged to read a page of panegyric upon
her. She was as much delighted to see us again, as we were to see her;
she was alone with Madame de Noisville, that happy mixture of my Aunt
Fox [Footnote: Mary, wife of Francis Fox, elder sister of Mr. Edgeworth
and Mrs. Ruxton.] and Mrs. Lataffiere. We went from Madame Potemkin to
Madame d'Haussonville's, with her we found Madame de Bouille playing at
billiards, just in the attitude in which we had left her three months
ago. Saturday I had a bad headache, but recovered in the evening; and
Monday we dined at Madame Potemkin's, where we met her aunt, a Princess
Galitzin, a thin, tall, odd, very clever woman, daughter to that Prince
Shuvaloff, to whom Voltaire wrote eternally, and she is _imbued_ with
anecdotes of that period, very well bred, and quick in conversation. She
is always afraid of catching cold, and always wears a velvet cap, and is
always wrapped up in shawls and pelisses in going from house to
house--_a cela pres_, a reasonable woman.

After leaving Madame Potemkin's we went to see--whom do you think? Guess
all round the breakfast-table before you turn over the leaf; if anybody
guesses right, I guess it will be Aunt Mary.