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Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824

"The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2"

My
yesterday's contained some advice, which I now see you don't want, and
hope you never will.
So! Petersham [1] has not joined you. I pity the poor women. No one can
properly repair such a deficiency; but rather than such a chasm should
be left utterly unfathomable, I, even I, the most awkward of attendants
and deplorable of danglers, would have been of your forlorn hope, on
this expedition. Nothing but business, and the notion of my being
utterly superfluous in so numerous a party, would have induced me to
resign so soon my quiet apartments never interrupted but by the sound,
or the more harmonious barking of Nettle, and clashing of billiard
balls.
On Sunday I shall leave town and mean to join you immediately. I have
not yet had my sister's answer to Lady Frances's very kind invitation,
but expect it tomorrow. Pray assure Lady Frances that I never can forget
the obligation conferred upon me in this respect, and I trust that even
Lady Catherine [2] will, in this instance, not question my "stability."
I yesterday wrote you rather a long tirade about La Comptesse, but you
seem in no immediate peril; I will therefore burn it. Yet I don't know
why I should, as you may relapse: it shall e'en go.
I have been passing my time with Rogers and Sir James Mackintosh; and
once at Holland House I met Southey; he is a person of very _epic_
appearance, and has a fine head--as far as the outside goes, and wants
nothing but taste to make the inside equally attractive.


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