THE following year found Colonel Clitherow's time greatly occupied with the treasurership of the Sons of the Clergy Corporation, and with a visitation of their estates in various parts of the country, which he found in such woeful condition that they would cost 'some thousands to repair and rebuild, or their ruin was certain.' This visitation, which took him and his party by slow stages as far as Yorkshire, probably accounts for our finding but one letter about the Court this year. It was written from Rise Park, the seat of their cousin, Mr. Bethell, M.P., on October 1, 1833. After an account of their journeys, and a description of Mr. Bethell's well-kept grounds, Miss Clitherow proceeds: 'Now, from the Fens I will take you to the Forest. The cottage where George IV. lived so much has been pulled down, except a banquetting room, the conservatory, and a few small rooms for the gardener. Here the preparations were made for a morning fête on the Queen's birthday [August 13], and, as a surprise to her, the magnificent Burmese tents, which she had never seen, were put up. I never saw anything prettier than the whole scene, and the day was lovely. The tents the most brilliant scarlet, ornamented with gold and silver, silver poles, and a silvered velvet carpet, embroidered with gold and silver. The hangings, sofas, and seats were all of Eastern splendour, and at the end was a large glass. The company was very select, and the morning dresses becoming and elegant. Two bands of music (Guards) played alternately. A guard of honour and numbers of officers were present. Everybody seemed gay and in their best fashion. The King and Queen, with about forty guests, dined in the room, about as many more in a long, canvas room. The tables had fruit, flowers, ornaments, confectionery, a few pyramids of cold tongue, ham, chicken, and raised pies. Then you had handed to you soups, fish, turtle, venison, and every sort of meat. Toasts were given, cannon fired, and both bands united in the appropriate national airs. Altogether it was a sort of enchantment. At seven fifteen of the King's carriages and many private carriages took the party to the Castle to dress for an evening assembly, where about two hundred were asked. We were the envy of many in being allowed to go home, having had the cream of the day. Nothing could be a greater compliment than our being asked in the morning. We were the only untitled people. The King had filled the Castle, Round Tower, and Cumberland Lodge, and had not a bed to offer. So he invited us, saying: "Come at three. We dine at four. And then go away at seven, and be home by daylight, for we cannot give you beds."