“Lord Thanet[31] said when he came to Kent this summer that Lord Cowper[32] had brought his Countess[33] to affront all _East Kent_, and he had brought his Countess to affront all _West Kent_. She was a little discomposed one day at dinner and threw a pheasant and a couple of partridges off the table in shoving them up to my Lord to cut up.” [30] Mary, 4th daughter and coheiress of 2nd Marquis of Halifax. [31] 7th Earl of Thanet. [32] William, 2nd Earl Cowper. [33] Henrietta, daughter of Earl Grantham. [Year: 1737] Early in 1737, the second daughter of the duchess’s was born--Henrietta, afterwards Countess of Stamford and Warrington. Elizabeth writes to congratulate her on the event. She and her family were very ill of fever that summer, thirteen persons down with it in the house. The smallpox raged at Canterbury, and Mrs. Robinson would not allow her daughters to attend the races. In a letter of September mention is made of Dr. Conyers Middleton’s disappointment at not obtaining the Mastership of the Charter House, which he most desired. Another peep at Lady Thanet-- “Lady Thanet came into this part of the country ten days ago; her French woman rode astride through the wilds of Kent, and the country people having heard her Ladyship was something odd, took Mademoiselle for Lady Thanet.” The first letter extant between Elizabeth and Miss Anstey, sister of Christopher Anstey, the author of the “New Bath Guide,”[34] may be placed here, though undated, except “Mount Morris, near Hythe, July 15.” This extract shows her vivacious nature-- [34] The “New Bath Guide” was not written till 1766. The Ansteys lived at Brinckley near Cambridge. “Yesterday I was overturned coming from a neighbour’s. We got no hurt at all, but were forced to borrow a coach to bring us the rest of the way, our own being quite disabled by the fall.... I always think one visits in the country at the hazard of one’s bones, but fear is never so powerful with me, as to make me stay at home, and the next thing to being retired, is to be morose: contemplation is not made for a woman on the right side of thirty, it suits prodigiously well with the gout or the rheumatism: rest and an elbow chair are the comfort of age, but the pleasures of youth are of a more lively sort. I have in winter gone eight miles to dance to the music of a blind fiddler, and returned at two in the morning, mightily pleased that I had been so well entertained. I am so fond of dancing that I cannot help fancying I was at some time bit by a tarantula,[35] and never got well cured of it. I shall this year lose my annual dancings at Canterbury Races, for my Papa has made a resolution (I assure you without my advice) not to go to them.” [35] It was believed that a tarantula’s bite was only to be cured by dancing. [Page heading: MERSHAM HATCH] [Page heading: THE PLAY] In the next letter to the duchess, October 15, 1737--