pleasing manners.

Of those who frequented our house Lord Lyttelton was most decidedly my
abhorrence; I knew that he frequently led my husband from the paths of
domestic confidence to the haunts of profligate debasement. Toward me
his lordship affected great indifference. He has even in my presence
declared that no woman under thirty years of age was worth admiring;
that even the antiquity of forty was far preferable to the insipidity of
sixteen; and he generally concluded his observations by hoping he had
not made "the pretty child angry."

I soon discovered that his intercourse with Lord Lyttelton produced a
very considerable change in Mr. Robinson's domestic deportment. They
were constantly together, and the neglect which I experienced began to
alarm me. I dedicated all my leisure hours to poetry; I wrote verses of
all sorts; and Mr. Robinson having mentioned that I had proposed
appearing on the stage, previous to my marriage, in the character of
Cordelia, Lord Lyttelton facetiously christened me the Poetess Corry.

It was with extreme regret, and frequently with uncontrollable
indignation, that I endured the neglect of my husband and the tauntings
of the profligate Lyttelton. "The child"--for so he generally called
me--was deserted for the society of the most libertine men and the most
abandoned women. Mr. Robinson became not only careless of his wife, but
of his pecuniary finances, while I was kept in total ignorance as to the
resources which supported his increasing expenses.

Among my other friends, Lady Yea frequently inquired by what means my
husband supported his household disbursements. Our table was elegantly,
though not profusely, served. Mr. Robinson seldom attended to his