During the greater part of the intervening period she lived in lodgings in Leicester Square—or “Leicester Fields” as the place was still often called—in a house opposite that of Sir Joshua Reynolds. The œconomy which she had learnt in her early days she continued to practise; dressing with extraordinary plainness, and often going without a fire in winter; so that she was able, through her self-sacrifice, to keep from want a large band of poor relatives and friends. The society she mixed with was various, but, for the most part, obscure. There were occasional visits from the now triumphant Mrs. Siddons; there were incessant propositions—but alas! they were equivocal—from Sir Charles Bunbury; for the rest, she passed her life among actor-managers and humble playwrights and unremembered medical men. One of her friends was William Godwin, who described her to Mrs. Shelley as a “piquante mixture between a lady and a milkmaid”, and who, it is said, suggested part of the plot of _A Simple Story_. But she quarreled with him when he married Mary Wollstonecraft, after whose death she wrote to him thus—“With the most sincere sympathy in all you have suffered—with the most perfect forgiveness of all you have said to me, there must nevertheless be an end to our acquaintance _for ever_. I respect your prejudices, but I also respect my own.” Far more intimate were her relations with Dr. Gisborne—a mysterious figure, with whom, in some tragic manner that we can only just discern, was enacted her final romance. His name—often in company with that of another physician, Dr. Warren, for whom, too, she had a passionate affection—occurs frequently among her papers; and her diary for December 17, 1794, has this entry:—“Dr. Gisborne drank tea here, and staid very late: he talked seriously of marrying—but not _me_.” Many years later, one September, she amused herself by making out a list of all the Septembers since her marriage, with brief notes as to her state of mind during each. The list has fortunately survived, and some of the later entries are as follows:— 1791. London; after my novel, Simple Story ... very happy. 1792. London; in Leicester Square ... cheerful, content, and sometimes rather happy.... 1794. Extremely happy, but for poor Debby’s death. 1795. My brother George’s death, and an intimate acquaintance with Dr. Gisborne—not happy.... 1797. After an alteration in my teeth, and the death of Dr. Warren—yet far from unhappy. 1798. Happy, but for suspicion amounting almost to certainty of a rapid appearance of age in my face.... 1802. After feeling wholly indifferent about Dr. Gisborne—very happy but for ill health, ill looks, &c. 1803. After quitting Leicester Square probably for ever—after caring scarce at all or thinking of Dr. Gisborne ... very happy.... 1806.... After the death of Dr. Gisborne, too, often very unhappy, yet mostly cheerful, and on my return to London nearly happy.