I like my house although it has only its snugness and a cheerful view to recommend it; but the people as yet rather bore me. In short, my dear Emmy, I return to the old song:--I don’t care _that_--for acquaintances. I had rather have my hedge of life with its gaps and rents, than patch it up with rubbish; and if the goodly cedars are laid low, the place that knew them shall at least remain void, and show that such things were. I really feel this more and more every day. I love my friends better than ever, but making an acquaintance is positively disagreeable. Your letters are such gleams to me. That alliance of Car[295] and her pretty little hands with Moloch Mostyn did enchant me. Do you know, Mrs. Vansittart’s consent ought to be more known. It is the longest step emancipation has made this age.[296] You see, Emmy, she was quite right about the girl’s beauty, and you quite wrong. I wish you could see my shaved head. I look like a Greek pipe-bearer, or Haggai himself, or something very much out of the way. But all my hair was really coming out. They say I shall have a good crop in six months, and be able to turn it up in a year. We are in doubts still about our finances. I do not well know what is to become of us, but I try not to fret. I wish you would make a friendship with the Downshires, that would conduce to your coming to the North country. Do you think Lord Auckland is to be moved this way? What people do you see most of? Which of my deputies is filling up my place? Is it your Bath or Maria Copley? What is become of Miss Villiers, and how is poor Lady Grantham?... How are you yourself? Good-bye, Dearest. Ever your own PAMELA CAMPBELL. _Miss Eden to Miss Villiers._ EASTCOMBE, _August 31, 1828_. I suppose my genius is to be cramped into this single sheet, which is very unpleasant. I was very glad to get your letter, as well to hear something about you, so as to know where to write.[297] It is an excellent plan your writing a few times at different places. Your letter amused me particularly. You have done adventures enough now for some time, and may pursue your way safely without any danger of shocking me with the want of incident.