The truth is that that party--Lady T. Sydney, Miss D’Este, the Howes, Brownlows, etc., have all been working on his, the King’s, fears, and exacted a promise that when Lord Spencer[422] died the King should try the Tories, which he has quite a right to do; but he should not have forced Lord Melbourne to take that office of great responsibility and then have dismissed him without any reason, or without Lord Melbourne’s making any difficulties, and he made _none_. I could convince you of this by several notes from him, besides the fact being now generally known. He says in one note: “I do not like to tell my story; I cannot. Besides, I hate to be considered ill-used; I have always thought complaints of ill-usage contemptible, whether from a seduced disappointed girl, or a turned out Prime Minister.” So like him! Our people have all been very cheerful this time, and it has been _privately_ an amusing week. Ours is the only official home left open, and as the poor things were all turned adrift, with nothing to do, and nowhere to go, they have dined here most days (I have found _such_ a cook!), and several others have come in, in the evening. Our plans are beautifully vague. We have no home, and no place, and no nothing; but as we have a right to a month’s residence after our successor is gazetted, and as he cannot be appointed for a fortnight, there is time enough to look about us. George leans to a place in the country large enough to give _him_ some amusement, and that is cheaper than a small villa which I should rather prefer, but either would do very well. In short, I do not much care so as he pleases himself. We have _esquivéd_ India, a constant source of pleasure to me, though I keep it snug, as he is rather disappointed at having missed it, so I must not seem so thankful as I am. I should like to go abroad for a few months, but the session will probably be an interesting one and he would not like to be out of the way. Your ever affectionate E. E. CHAPTER X 1835-1837 _Lady Campbell to Miss Eden._ _July, 1835._ I HAVE really escaped with my life--_I ain’t dead yet_, but such a big monster of a girl![423]--a regular Megalonia of a female, that if you happened to find a loose joint of hers you would think it must belong to an antediluvian Ox. Je vous demande un peu what am I to do with a seventh girl of such dimensions? Well, my own darling, your letter came just as I was allowed to read, and it cheered me and delighted me, because you know we cannot help thinking just the same, and my weak sides shook with laughter, and then I cried because I do love you so much that I take a pining to see you, and I am sure you do long to have me within reach of your Ship Hotel or Ship Inn, for you are too wise to look upon it as more than your Hostelrie!...