George goes to Woburn to-morrow for the last week of shooting. Lord Edward Thynne’s marriage went off--because the butcher would not be _conformable_ about settlements.[341] I am sorry, for I liked Edward very much when we were at Longleat. He is quite unlike the others, so lively and easy. I wish he had not equally bad luck in the line of fortune-hunting. Dublin must be going into deep black for your brother, to judge by the papers.[342] I wonder whether Popular mourning is like Court mourning--the gentlemen to wear black swords and fringe, and the ladies chamois shoes--two great mysteries to me. I am so glad he has been so liked. Your most affectionate E. E. _Miss Eden to Miss Villiers._ GROSVENOR STREET, _Thursday, April 1830._ MY DEAREST THERESA, Observe how we write! Not a moment lost, and I shall have the last word, but I meant to write to you yesterday, because the very morning after my last letter, I found by a confidential advice from Longleat that I had forwarded to you a regular London lie about Edward Thynne, and that his marriage, so far from being off, was negotiating with great success. However, it was a secret then; but Lord Henry came yesterday to tell me it was declared, and to-day I have a letter from Lady Bath, apparently in ecstacies: “Write and wish me great joy. You are the first, the _very first_, to whom I have written my dear Edward’s marriage, and I know you will be pleased. Write to me directly.” I am not at all pleased, and have not an idea what to write. I think if Edward had been thirty-three instead of twenty-three, had _wearied_ of the world, as the Scotch say, and been disappointed in love several times, as all people are by that time, it would not have been unnatural that he should have married for an establishment; but a boy of that age has no right to be so calculating. I cannot quite make out the story. I heard from a great friend of the family who had been employed in the negotiation that it is the sick plain sister[343] Lord E. marries; that he did not pretend to care about her; supposed if he saw her once before their marriage it would be enough--and so on, which was disgusting. Lord Henry yesterday carried it off better--said she was rather pretty, well educated, well mannered, and that Edward was in love, and all the right things. Perhaps he is right. I did not know what to tell you about Longleat, it was so long ago. I do not think _your_ Barings[344] will like Lord Henry’s present pursuit. The same name and the other family; but do not for your life say a word of it to them, as I vowed the deepest vows to him yesterday that I would not do him any mischief. Not that I know how I could, and I would not if I could, but I presume he dreads family communications which, as the A. Barings and H. Barings do not speak, I laboured to convince him yesterday were not to be dreaded.