Under this influence, she determined to address a letter to one with whom she was in the habit of corresponding, and whom she knew to be on a visit to Dunmelraise, the seat of Lady Adeline's mother. She felt confident that she might take this step without compromising herself, and without her inquiries being deemed strange, or indicative of any thing beyond a natural curiosity. Shortly after this letter had been written, the following reply came from her friend, Mr. G. Foley; the contents of which were not at all calculated to tranquillize Lady Hamlet Vernon's feelings, if she really had any affection for Lord Albert. _Letter from Mr. Foley to Lady Hamlet Vernon._ "When one is not to write of that which one is thinking about, it is the most difficult thing in the world to write at all. But you command, and I must endeavour to obey. Let me see how am I to commence? Perhaps it is best that I do so by giving you _the history_, as one young lady writing to another would say, of the Lady Adeline Seymour. You know that Lady Dunmelraise, her mother, lost her husband and an only son soon after Lady Adeline's birth; she then fell into low spirits and bad health, but by degrees roused herself to live for this child; and I must do her the justice to say, she has fulfilled her task admirably. "As to personal appearance, Lady Adeline Seymour is of that height which just escapes being too tall; of that slimness which just escapes being too thin; of that untutored manner which is often nearly being _gauche_, were it not that it is accompanied by a childish grace which evades the charge. Quick of perception, and quicker still in feeling, she has a peculiar way of checking these impulses so as never to allow them to betray her into any unbecoming harshness or abruptness of manner; the very fear one entertains that she may overstep the boundary of polished _rétenu_ gives an additional zest to her, but _gare a ceux qui voudroit l'imiter_--for she is perfectly original and defies all copyists. As to her face it is not marvellously beautiful, still less regularly so, but it is of such love-like paleness, chased by such sunny gleams of joyous youth continually playing over her features, that one could not wish it changed even for a more regular beauty. She is the very model of the poet's dream when he wrote-- ----'Her pure and eloquent blood Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That one would almost say her body thought.'