censed neglected woman, without the power of returning it. The last letter I writ to you was from Gloucester, about a twelvemonth ago; after that I went to Long Leat to my lady Weymouth; came to town in January, where I have remained ever since, except a few weeks I spent at sir John Stanley's at Northend, the Delville of this part of the world. I hope Naboth's vineyard flourishes: it always has my good wishes, though I am not near enough to partake of its fruits. The town is now empty, and, by most people, called dull; to me it is just agreeable, for I have most of my particular friends in town, and my superfluous acquaintance I can very well spare. My lord Carteret is at Hawnes: my lady Carteret is in town, nursing my lady Dysart, who is brought to bed of a very fine son, and in hopes of my lady Weymouth's being soon under the same circumstance. I have not seen my lord Bathurst since I was at his house in Gloucestershire: that is a mischief I believe you have produced; for as long as I could entertain him with an account of his friend the dean, he was glad to see me; but lately we have been great strangers. Mrs. Donnellan sometimes talks of making a winter's visit to Dublin, and has vanity enough to think you are one of those that will treat her kindly: her loss to me will be irreparable, beside the mortification it will be to me to have her go to a place where I should so gladly accompany her. I know she will be just, and tell the reasons why I could not, this year, take such a progress. After having forced myself into your company, it will be impertinent to make you a longer visit, and destroy the intention of it; which was only to assure you of my being, sir, your most faithful, and obliged humble servant,
