HUSH, hush, Emmy, the King _is_ dead,[124] and we have entered a new reign, yes, yes, and George IV. _has_ been proclaimed, and I _have_ wondered what he’ll do with his wife, and Henry VII. would not let his Queen be crowned for two years, and Hume says so, and all the newspapers are very black, and the _Times_ blacker than any, and there is an end of the topics and we know it all. Now to our old channel. My hair is on tip-toe. I have heard with my outward ears to-day, that there hangs a possibility in Fate of my not getting home for a month. Not that I am uncomfortable here, but only I do so wish to see you again, my dearie, and poor dear Lu![125] It quite amounts to longing, or craving, or hunger, or thirst. It is so long since I have done out my heart and mind, it is all in a litter. I enjoyed myself so very much indeed while your brother and Mr. Fazakerly were here. As for the others, I wished them hanged, for I had to make company to them, and they did not make amusement for _me_. We are quite alone, and have been ever since Wednesday. After I have made breakfast, and Lord Lansdowne has engulphed as much Tea as he can carry, I take my mornings to myself and bask in the Library. I do not mean this as a figurative allusion to the sunshine of the mind, but that the room stands South, as all rooms should stand, or walk off. I then at about two, lunch, and see Lady Lansdowne for half-an-hour, take my walk till five, come in, and write an empty line to Lucy to while away her time. Lady Lansdowne dines with us, goes to bed before eleven, and I stay on talking till near one with the Wilt. I do, I _will_ like him, tho’ I have run very near hating him, that Wilt wise man! He goes next Monday to Woburn[126] and Middleton[127] on his way to Town, and Lord knows when it will please Providence we should follow. Tell me something of Mary, and above all, tell me about yourself. Your last letter made me laugh so much! Do it again. I ever remain, your affectionate old PAM. _Miss FitzGerald to Miss Eden._ BOWOOD, _February 10, 1820_. It is now settled we are to be in Town the 20th.... We do not mean to be in London this year at all to remain, Emmy; it is not worth while. I need not say it to you, for we compared notes last year upon the emptiness of existence in that Town--gaiety as it is called. You will come to Thames Ditton, where we have the certainty of being comfortable together.