“_Sandleford, September ye 30th, 1783._ ... We are all very well and very happy; these are the best articles a country journal can contain, and most likely to be found in a journal when ambitious pursuits and tumultuous pleasures are perfectly excluded. “... There is a mode of taking exercise which, from my own experience, I think I shall recommend to all my friends who are not riders, and that is a one-horse chair. Sir Richard Jebb, just before I left London, advis’d me to the use of this carriage. I objected to it, as unpleasant and unsafe. He assur’d me, that would I allow him to order me one of his coachmaker, after a model of one he had used on every kind of roads, he would answer for my finding it easy and secure. To this I consented, and, in a very obliging manner, he attended almost daily to see it was properly constructed, and, about six weeks ago, he wrote me word it was finished. I sent to London for it; and I find it the most delightful way of taking exercise imaginable. I take an airing sometimes of sixteen or seventeen miles (ye going and return included), and I am never weary while abroad, nor fatigued when I get home. My machine is hung so low, I am exalted but little above the grazing herds, and at ye same time can hear distinctly the song of the skylark above my head. No rural sight or rural sound is intercepted. Miss Gregory is my charioteer: she prides herself more on caution than dexterity, so avoids everything that could alarm me. As my driver is young, I chose an old horse to draw me; but so much has every danger been obviated by the construction of the carriage, I believe I should be very safe with a steed of more vivacity and spirit. If the weather is doubtful, my post-chaise follows, that we may take shelter against its inclemencies. I am much pleased with this prescription of Sir Richard Jebb’s. “... We are doing a great piece of work in feathers. Every sort of feather is useful; so shall be much obliged if you can collect some for me.” The old formality toward her sister-in-law never changed, as the following letter will show: “_November 26, 1783._ ... You mention, my dear madam, with regret that you had not asked me to dine; but you wrong your hospitality, for you offered me a very comfortable dinner; but knowing, in your unsettled state at Burfield, dining guests must be very troublesome, I had calculated and contrived all things so as to make you merely a noonday visit. To tell you the truth, I am so afraid of my postillion and servants getting a too great dose of ale at the houses of gentlemen in a country neighbourhood, that I make a rule never to dine from home. I have enjoy’d your kind and elegant hospitality at your house in Kent, and am sure the same spirit would ever exert itself to give an agreeable welcome to your friends.