I thank my Dearest Nanny for her Letter Though it abused me, I think without Reasonable Grounds: tis true I dont write so often as I wish to see you, yet I won't allow I have let our conversation suffer any considerable Interruption. I Have had no opportunity yet of cultivating any farther acquaintance with Mr Molinox than by receiving his name and leaving Mine: I shall need no other inducement to his Freindship than the presumption of his civility to you, which your letter gives me reason to think: I shall ever esteem Any Man deserving of my regard who loves In any degree what so thoroughly merits and possesses my Heart as my Dear Girl. I have the pleasure of telling you my Commission is sign'd and I have Kiss'd hands for it, so that my Country Quarters won't be Cornwall this Summer. You are like to have Company soon with you, Hollins having ordered my Sister Pitt the Bath immediately: what becomes of the two poor vestals I dont yet know. the Town produces nothing new, as the Place you are in I suppose, produces absolutely nothing at all: kill some of your time by writing often to one who will always contribute to make you pass it more pleasurably, when in his Power. Adieu, recover yr health, and preserve Chearfulness enough to give your Understanding a fair light.[56] Yrs most sensibly W. PITT. The next letter was written in the midst of what would now be called a bear-fight, carried on apparently in the room of the demure Lyttelton. _London. March ye 13: 1731._ I am now lock'd into George's room; the girls Thundering at the door as if Heaven and Earth would come together: I am certainly the warmest Brother, or the coldest Gallant In the Universe, to suffer the gentle Impertinencies the sportly Sollicitations of two girls not quite despicable without emotion, and bestow my Time and spirits upon a Sister: But in effect the thing is not so strange or unreasonable, for every Man may have Girls worthy his attention, but few, sisters so conversible as my Dear Nanny. Tis impossible to say much, amidst this rocking of the doors Chairs and tables: I fancy myself in a storm Of the utmost danger and horror; and were I really in one, I would not cease to think of my Dear Girl, till I lost my fears and Trepidations in the object of my tenderest care and sincerest zeal. let the winds roar, and the big Torrent burst! I won't leave my Nanny for any Lady of you all, but with the warmest assurance of unalterable affection, Adieu.[57] He is now once more in country quarters, grievously hipped. The allusion to the barmaid 'who young at the bar is just learning to score' reads like a line from some forgotten song. In his despair he threatens to get drunk. _Northampton April ye 9th. 1731._