I hope this letter will find you safe return'd to Hampshire. I am preparing to leave the Spaw with all possible expedition: I should quit it with reluctance, but for the prospect of visiting it again next summer, with my dear Fanny. At Montpelier the winter will slide on imperceptibly: many agreeable families will there join us from the Spaw, whose good-humour and chearful dispositions, together with plentiful draughts of the Pouhon Spring, have almost made me forget the last ten years I have dragg'd, on in painful sickness. The family in which I have found most satisfaction, is Lord Hampstead's:--every way calculated to make themselves and others happy;--such harmony is observed through the whole, that the mechanism of the individuals seem to be kept in order by one common wheel.--I rejoice that I shall have an opportunity of introducing you to them.--We have fixed to set out the same day for Montpelier. Lady Elizabeth, the eldest daughter, has obligingly offer'd to travel in my coach, saying, she thought it would be dull for me to go alone. It is impossible to say which of the two sisters, was it left to my choice, would be my companion, as both are superlatively pleasing.--They possess, to a degree, what I so much admire in our sex;--a peculiar softness in the voice and manner; yet not quite so sprightly, perhaps, as may be thought necessary for some misses started up in this age; but sufficient, I think, for those who keep within certain bounds.--It requires an uncommon share of understanding, join'd with a great share of wit, to make a very lively disposition agreeable. I allow, if these two ingredients are happily blended, none can chuse but admire, as well as be entertain'd with, such natural fine talents:--on the contrary, where one sees a pert bold girl apeing such rare gifts, it is not only the most painful, but most absurd sight on earth. Lady Elizabeth, and her amiable sister Sophia strive to hide every perfection they possess;--yet these I have just mention'd, with all others, will on proper occasions, make their appearance through a croud of blushes.--This timidity proceeds partly from nature,--partly from the education they have received under the best of mothers, whose tenderness for them would not suffer her to assign that momentous task to any but herself; fearing, as she has often told me, they would have had a thousand faults overlook'd by another, which her eye was ever on the watch to discover. She well knew the most trivial might be to them of the worst consequence:--when they were call'd to an account for what was pass'd, or warn'd how to avoid the like for the future, her manner was so determin'd and persuasive, as if she was examining her own conscience, to rectify every spot and blemish in it.