You are a very reflecting girl, in mentioning to me, so particularly, your behaviour to your Grevilles, Fenwicks, and Ormes. What is that but saying, See, Charlotte! I am a much more complacent creature to the men, no one of which I intend to have, than you are to your husband! What a pious woman, indeed, must be your grandmamma, that she could suspend her joy, her long-absent darling at her feet, till she had first thanked God for restoring her to her arms! But, in this instance, we see the force of habitual piety. Though not so good as I should be myself, I revere those who are so; and that I hope you will own is no bad sign. Well, but now for ourselves, and those about us. Lady Olivia has written a letter from Windsor to Lady L----. It is in French; extremely polite. She promises to write to me from Oxford. Lady Anne S---- made me a visit this morning. She was more concerned than I wished to see her, on my confirming the report she had heard of my brother's being gone abroad. I rallied her a little too freely, as it was before Lord G---- and Lord L----. I never was better rebuked than by her; for she took out her pencil, and on the cover of a letter wrote these lines from Shakespeare, and slid them into my hand: "And will you rend our ancient love asunder, To join with men in scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly; 'tis not maidenly: Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, Though I alone do feel the injury." I never, my dear, told you how freely this lady and I had talked of love: but, freely as we had talked, I was not aware that the matter lay so deep in her heart. I knew not how to tell her that my brother had said, it could not be. I could have wept over her when I read this paper; and I owned myself by a whisper justly rebuked. She charged me not to let any man see this; particularly not either of those present: and do you, Harriet, keep what I have written of Lady Anne to yourself.