By the foot of Pharaoh, I
believe there was abuse, for he stopped short, so he did, after a fine
saying about our correspondence, and _looked_--I wish I could revenge
myself by attacking you, or by telling you that I have _had_ to defend
you--an agreeable way which one's friends have of recommending
themselves by saying--"Ay, ay, _I_ gave it Mr. Such-a-one for what he
said about your being a plagiary, and a rake, and so on." But do you
know that you are one of the very few whom I never have the satisfaction
of hearing abused, but the reverse;--and do you suppose I will forgive
_that_?
I have been in the country, and ran away from the Doncaster races. It is
odd,--I was a visitor in the same house [2] which came to my sire as a
residence with Lady Carmarthen (with whom he adulterated before his
majority--by the by, remember _she_ was not my mamma),--and they thrust
me into an old room, with a nauseous picture over the chimney, which I
should suppose my papa regarded with due respect, and which, inheriting
the family taste, I looked upon with great satisfaction. I stayed a week
with the family, and behaved very well--though the lady of the house is
young, and religious, and pretty, and the master is my particular
friend. I felt no wish for any thing but a poodle dog, which they kindly
gave me. Now, for a man of my courses not even to have _coveted_, is a
sign of great amendment. Pray pardon all this nonsense, and don't "snub
me when I'm in spirits.
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