It was the drollest thing in the world to see this pupil of fifty, whose habits were so entirely unfitted for a learner, conning his task.... He was a most unpromising scholar, shuffled the syllables together in a manner that would seem incredible, and stumbled at every step of the pronunciation, against which his English tongue rebelled amain. Every now and then he solaced himself with a fluent volley of execrations in his own language, which the Abbé understood well enough to return, after rather a polite fashion, in French. It was a most amusing scene. But the motive! the generous noble motive! M. l’Abbé after a few lessons detected this delicate artifice, and, touched almost to tears, insisted on dismissing his pupil, who, on his side, declared that nothing should induce him to abandon his studies. At last they came to a compromise. The cherry-cheeked Margaret ... [who kept the doctor’s house] took her uncle’s post as a learner, which she filled in a manner much more satisfactory; and the good old Frenchman not only allowed Mr. Hallett to administer gratis to his ailments, but partook of his Sunday dinner as long as he lived. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXVIII AGREEABLE JAUNTS Mary Russell Mitford visited Southampton in the year 1812, and although only one of her letters written at that time has been preserved it gives us a vivid picture of her impressions of the place. The letter is dated September 3rd. “I have just returned from Southampton,” she writes to Sir William Elford. “Have you ever been at that lovely spot, which combines all that is enchanting in wood and land and water with all that is ‘buxom, blythe and debonair’ in society—that charming town, which is not a watering-place only because it is something better?... Southampton has, in my eyes, an attraction independent even of its scenery in the total absence of the vulgar hurry of business or the chilly apathy of fashion. It is indeed all life, all gaiety; but it has an airiness, an animation which might become the capital of Fairyland. The very motion of its playful waters, uncontaminated by commerce or by war, seems in unison with the graceful yachts that sail upon their bosom.” [Illustration: THE WEST GATE, SOUTHAMPTON] She admired the ruins of Netley Abbey, and writes in one of her poems:— “Methinks that e’en from Netley’s gloom To look upon the tide Seems gazing from the shadowy tomb On life and all its pride.” At a much later date Miss Mitford visited Bath.