Would n't it be a nice example, I ask, to the girls, if I was to overlook K. I.'s conduct, and call it a "venal" offence? And this, too, when the eyes of all Europe is staring at us. "How will Mrs. D. take it?" says the Prince of this. "What will Mrs. D. say to him?" says the Duke of that "Does _she_ know it yet?" asks the Archduke of Moravia. That's the way they go on from morning till night; so that, in fact, Molly,--as Lord George observes,--"he is less of a private culprit than a great public malefactor." There's the way I am forced to look on the case; and think more of the good of society than of my family feelings. Such are my sentiments, Molly, after giving to the case a most patient and careful consideration; and it's little good in Tom Purcell's trying to oppose and obstruct me. If it were not for this unhappy event, I must own to you, Molly, that we never enjoyed ourselves anywhere more than we do here. It's a scene of pleasure and gayety all day,--and, indeed, all nightlong; and nothing but the anticipation of K. I. 's return could damp the ardor of our happiness. However it's managed, I can't tell; but the most elegant balls and entertainments are given here free and for nothing! Who keep up the rooms, pays for the lighting, the servants, and the refreshments, is more than I can say. All I know is, that your humble servant never contributed a sixpence to one of them. Lord George says that the Grand Duke is never happy except when the place is crammed; and that he 'd spend his last shilling rather than not see people amuse themselves. And there's a Frenchman, too,--a Mr. Begasset, or Benasset, or something like that,--who is so wild about amusement that he goes to any expense about the place, and even keeps a pack of hounds for the public.