They spent about a fortnight at Poppleton Hall, and then went on to Yatton; and if the reader be at all curious to know how MR. AND LADY CECILIA TITMOUSE commenced their matrimonial career, I am able, in some measure, to gratify him, by the sight of a letter addressed by the Lady Cecilia, some time afterwards, to one of her confidential friends. 'T is melancholy enough, with, in addition, all the feebleness and dulness which might have been expected from one of her Ladyship's temperament and capacity; yet, methinks, may it suggest topics of instructive reflection. "YATTON, _28th April 18--_. "DEAR BLANCHE-- ... "Fate should have something pleasant in store for me, since it has made me most unhappy now, but it is some consolation that I took this step purely to please my papa, who seemed to think that it was a thing that _ought_ to be done: You know he always fretted himself greatly about the division of the family interests, and so on; and when he proposed to me this truly unhappy alliance, _I_ supposed it was my duty to comply, as indeed he said it was. I am sure but for this I should never have dreamed of such a thing as doing what I did, for if, by the way, fate chose us to come together, it ought surely to have fitted us to each other; but really, dear Blanche, (_entre nous_) you cannot _think_ what a _creature it is_. He is always smoking cigars, &c., and he by that means not only carries the nasty odor of the smoke about him everywhere, but also in spite of all I can do, when we come together in the carriage (which is not often) and at meals, he communicates the odious smell to my clothes--and Annette wastes a fortune in eau-de-cologne to scatter over my dresses and her own too, and he has very nasty habits besides, namely, picking his teeth, (often at dinner,) eating with his knife, &c. &c., and he is continually running his fingers through his horrid hair, to curl it, and carries a comb with him, and several times has combed his hair in the carriage just before we got out at the door of the place we were to dine at, and he always takes too much wine, and comes up the very last to the drawing-room, and sometimes in _such a state_. I am resolved I will never come home with him from dinner again, even if I ever go out together with him. I do believe the wretch has been guilty of some impudence to Annette, for the girl always colors when I mention his name, and looks confused and angry, but of course I cannot ask her. And he is such a horrid _liar_ there is no believing a word he says, he is always saying that he might if he had chosen marry Lady This and Lady That, and says Miss Aubrey was dying to have him (I wish, dear B., she _had_, instead of myself, she would have been welcome for me, to return