He was particularly pleased with Patty; and one morning, before Mr. Wesley came down, he asked me if I was willing to let Patty go and stay a year or two with him at London? "Sister," says he, "I have endeavoured already to make one of your children easy while she lives, and if you please to trust Patty with me, I will endeavour to make her so too." Whatever others may think, I thought this a generous offer, and the more so, because he had done so much for Sukey and Hetty. I expressed my gratitude as well as I could, and would have had him speak with your father, but he would not himself--he left that to me; nor did he ever mention it to Mr. Wesley till the evening before he left us. He always behaved himself very decently at family prayers, and in your father's absence said grace for us before and after meat. Nor did he ever interrupt our privacy, but went into his own chamber when we went into ours. He staid from Thursday to the Wednesday after, then he left us to go to Scarborough, from whence he returned the Saturday se'nnight, intending to stay with us a few days; but finding your sisters gone the day before to Lincoln, he would leave us on Sunday morning, for he said he might see the girls before they--he and Patty--set forward for London. He overtook them at Lincoln, and had Mrs. Taylor, Emily, Kezzy, with the rest, to supper with him at the Angel. On Monday they breakfasted with him; then they parted, expecting to see him no more till they came to London, but on Wednesday he sent his man to invite them to supper at night. On Thursday he invited them to dinner, at night to supper, and on Friday morning to breakfast, when he took his leave of them and rode for London. They got into town on Saturday about noon, and that evening Patty writ me an account of her journey. Dear Jackey, I can't stay now to talk about Hetty, but this-I hope better of her than some others do. I pray God to bless you. Adieu. S. W. Hetty had been warned that her uncle and Patty would arrive on the Saturday. She did not expect them before evening; nevertheless, in the forenoon she sallied out, and stopping in the market on her way to buy a large bunch of roses, walked to Johnson's Court, where the door was opened to her by her own cook-maid--a fearless, middle-aged Scotswoman who did not mind inhabiting an empty house, and whom she had sent to Uncle Matthew on the eve of his departure, as well to get her out of the way as to relieve him of his search for a carekeeper.