I daresay London will be pleasant enough in a week or so. I see plenty of stray people about it. Ladies with very _considerable_ figures, and attentive bored husbands attending them in the short walks they are able to take, not to be out of sight of the monthly nurse. Lady H. Baring being one of the most considerable, and Bingham[305] one of the most attentive, I went with them to the Adelphi on Wednesday and was in agonies all the time. The house was so full there would not have been room for even the smallest baby in addition. It is very odd that the Duke of Wellington will not say one word as to the intentions of the Government, because as it is, nothing can be more terrific than the state of things. I begin to believe what some people say--that he has no plan and does not know what to do. In short another Goderich come to judgement. The Copleys have been at Chatsworth--an immense party, private theatricals, dancing, etc., and they were all enchanted. It amused me that Coppy [Miss Copley] should act Antonio in the “Merchant of Venice,” she must have been such a good figure, and somehow the idea tickled my fancy particularly. I think she must have done it well. Antonio is an excellent over-friendly bore, and though it is wrong of us, you know that is the light in which Coppy strikes us. The Duke of Portland, as usual, does not take joy in Lady Lucy’s[306] marriage, and gives her no money. His is a good plan: he holds out his daughters as fortunes till somebody proposes for them, and then he gives them nothing because they accept the proposal. And then in a rage his sons-in-law threaten to carry off their wives to some horrid climate. Lord Howard is going to try the West Indies. The London University has opened with most unexpected success. They have nearly 250 students entered already, and several of the Professors have distinguished themselves much in their introductory lectures, and there have been crowds sent away who were anxious to hear them. George got your brother Charles[307] a place to hear a lecture the other day among the council. He never can make out the names of your brothers, except George, but goes boldly on calling them all “Villiers” and then comes to me to class them. Ever your affectionate E. E. _Miss Eden to Miss Villiers._ GROSVENOR STREET, _November 19, 1828_. MY DEAREST THERESA, George and I went to Norman Court about a month ago, met a very pleasant party there, and had enjoyed ourselves nearly a week, charmed to be out of town, delighted to be killing the poor dear dumb pheasants, and recovering a great deal of lost health, and nursing up an equable flow of spirits, when a letter arrived to say my sister, Mrs. Vansittart, was taken dangerously ill. We had to set off directly, travelled all day--such a horrid journey, particularly the last stage, for we expected to find all was over. However, thank God! that was not the case, though she was in the greatest danger.